Catching fire - re-written
by JustPlugMeIn
Summary: What if Katniss did actually fall in love with Peeta? What if they did have the marriage toasting Peeta had announced during his interview? What if Katniss is pregnant? Of course, nothing you recognise is mine; I didn't write the Hunger games trilogy, it all belongs to Suzanne Collins.
1. Chapter 1

I'm missing out most of what happened in the book _Catching Fire_ because I'm assuming you've all read it, though I am copying some bits in, the bits I think are important to Katniss and don't want to re-write. This means that Snow does come to visit her but I'm not writing it in. Some bits will be changed but I hope you'll all be able to keep up with me.

Of course, nothing you recognise is mine; I didn't write the Hunger games trilogy, it all belongs to Suzanne Collins.

I stared at the slice of toast Peeta had just slid onto my plate; it wasn't the fine, white, bakery bread that we were now so used to but the grain bread I'd been eating since my infancy. Peeta had the inspiring idea that baking the bread of our district and then toasting it would mean more to the both of us than using the expensive stuff you can buy at the bakery his parents own.

But it wasn't the type of bread that had me staring; it was the fact that, in the middle of the toasted bread, just a little lighter in colour was my Mockingjay. "Katniss, the girl on fire" Peeta whispered. I caught his gaze as I looked up at him, speechless. This symbol had become dangerous now that a few of the districts had begun rebelling against the Capitol using the Mockingjay as their symbol; Peeta knew that just as well as I did. "I did it to remind you that _this_ is our choice" he told me quietly "the proposal was for the benefit of the Capitol, to try and convince Snow, just as the wedding is but this-" he gestured to the slice of toast "this was our idea, this is our way of controlling our lives instead of Snow controlling it for us."

Shaking my head, I said "but _how_ did you do it? I never knew that you could."

"It was simple enough" he shrugged but then smiled at me "shall we, before it gets cold? That is unless you've changed your mind."

About two months after returning from the Victory tour, Peeta proposed me again; telling me that _this_ proposal was for me, _just_ me, and not for the Capitol, Snow or the rest of Panem. He'd told me that if we were to be married then he wanted to do it our way. "I haven't changed my mind" I assured him, kissing him softly as extra assurance, before taking a bite and handing it to him so he could too.

The Toasting is a marriage ritual in District 12, where a newly-wed couple cross the threshold into their new home, make their first fire together, and toast a piece of bread. Of course, Peeta and I hadn't been to the justice building and had an official marriage but both of us felt that if a Toasting was what married couples needed to make it feel official then all we had to do was the Toasting. We didn't need a piece of paper to say that we were married, we didn't even need to be assigned a home as both of us reside so closely together in the Victors Village. We'd decided against doing it there though, we both wanted a bit more privacy and so we found ourselves in the home that I'd grown up in. Completing the ritual in private, not even telling Haymitch.

"Tell me again" Peeta requested "how you figured out that you weren't just playing for the cameras. Tell me when you realised that you were in love with me."

I smiled, of all the stories that I'd told him, this had been his favourite. "I'd felt a spark whilst we were in the cave" I began "one time, when we'd kissed, it was like I just couldn't get enough. I needed more but I knew that I couldn't have more, not yet." I smile fondly at him, taking in his face as he listened intently to my story "but it wasn't until we were informed of the rule change, the second time, after Cato's death did I realise just how much I needed you and I didn't want to lose you. The stunt with the berries had been to save us, Peeta, but I didn't realise that it was because I couldn't live without you. The moment I fell in love with you, however, was when the hovercraft came to get us and I watched the blood flow freely from the wound in your leg. I was so scared that, despite the fact that we'd both survived the games, I could still lose you and I knew that, if you did die, there would be nothing left for me anymore. Not even coming back to Prim and Gale. It was a feeling like no other" I was whispering now as the emotion was getting the better of me. Thinking back to that moment always made me well up but, with Peeta's help, I stopped hiding it; stopped being embarrassed of it. "It felt like my heart was about to explode."

Peeta wiped away a tear, from my cheek, with his thumb and moved in to comfort me, as he always did when I got upset. "I love you" he tells me passionately "you don't need to worry about me leaving you because we're safe now, we're safe, Katniss." And then his lips were on mine, the half-eaten slice of toast forgotten as we went to seal the marriage.

I returned home, later that day, with a smile on my face as the words 'we're safe now' went round and round my head. Peeta was right; we'd done our part, we'd survived the games, and, as an added bonus, the Capitol would now leave us alone which, for the two of us, means that neither of us would have to face another reaping with our names in those glass balls. It was more than either of us could hope for; of course, the reaping would terrify me and continue to terrify me until Prim reaches eighteen but at least she didn't have to worry about me now.

"Where have you been?" My mother asked as I walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table where Prim was already sitting, waiting for dinner. I could see Prim's homework, sat neatly on the corner of the table; I assume that she'd already completed it as she'd been home longer than normal due to the fact that school had finished early due to a mandatory programming tonight.

I shrug "out, went back to the old house; got dad for you." I placed the picture of my father on the table and stared at him for a moment. We'd not brought him over straight away, mom had been worried about breaking the frame as we moved our things in and sorted the house out to how we liked it and then, because neither my mother or Prim liked to return to our old house, it was left to me to bring him back but I'd put it off because he'd been on the mantle, above the fire, for so long that it almost felt wrong moving him.

"Wonderful" my mother replied, picking up the frame and disappearing with it. Probably going to put it on the desk in the room where she does our accounts.

"Where were you really?" Prim asks, as soon as our mother was out of earshot.

"At the house" I repeat; at least I didn't have to lie about where I was. Both Peeta and I had made the decision to keep our true feelings a secret so that we didn't cause any upset between our families and friends. Well, Gale. At least we don't have to sneak around to see each other, the Capitol did us one favour at least.

My little sister stares at me for a moment before asking "so are you going to sneak out to Peeta's tonight or are you going to sneak him in here?"

"What?" I blink at her in surprise and rebuke myself for forgetting just how attentive Prim is.

She smiles a little as she says "you might be able to keep things from mother, Katniss, but I'm a little harder to fool; besides" she shrugs "I think it's nice."

Prim then stops talking as our mother returns saying "I put him on the desk beside those flowers Prim picked for me."

Dinner was a little quieter than normal; Prim and mother were talking but, having just married Peeta, my thoughts were a little pre-occupied. It wasn't until Prim nudged me that I realised that I hadn't even touched the broth in front of me. "Better eat up, it's almost seven" I'm reminded.

"I bet it's the photo shoot!" Prim squeals in excitement.

"It can't be, Prim" I told her, slightly amused "they were only taken yesterday."

At around half seven, we all gathered around the television set only to find that Prim had been right. I watch through my fingers as shots of me, modelling wedding dresses, are vomited onto the screen. I always hate seeing myself on the screen, it helps me to see what other people see when they look at me and I end up thinking 'do I _really_ look like that?'

The thing that followed, however, made me wish that I was watching the photoshoot again.

"It must be the reading of the card" my mother muttered looking a little nauseated.

President Snow goes on to tell us what happened in the previous Quarter Quells. "On the twenty-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that their children were dying because of their choice to initiate violence, every district was made to hold an election and vote on the tributes who would represent it."

I wonder how that would have felt. Picking the kids who had to go. It is worse, I think, to be turned over by your own neighbours than have your name drawn from the reaping ball.

"On the fiftieth anniversary," the president continues, "as a reminder that two rebels died for each Capitol citizen, every district was required to send twice as many tributes."

I imagine facing a field of forty-seven instead of twenty-three. Worse odds, less hope, and ultimately more dead kids. That was the year Haymitch won... .

"I had a friend who went that year," says my mother quietly. "Maysilee Donner. Her parents owned the sweetshop. They gave me her songbird after. A canary."

Prim and I exchange a look. It's the first we've ever heard of Maysilee Donner. Maybe because my mother knew we would want to know how she died.

"And now we honour our third Quarter Quell," says the president. The little boy in white steps forward, holding out the box as he opens the lid. We can see the tidy, upright rows of yellowed envelopes. Whoever devised the Quarter Quell system had prepared for centuries of Hunger Games. The president removes an envelope clearly marked with a 75. He runs his finger under the flap and pulls out a small square of paper. Without hesitation, he reads, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

My mother gives a faint shriek and Prim buries her face in her hands, but I feel more like the people I see in the crowd on television. Slightly baffled. What does it mean? Existing pool of victors?

Then I get it, what it means. At least, for me. District 12 only has three existing victors to choose from. Two male. One female ...

Peeta was wrong, we're not safe; we're going back into the arena.


	2. Chapter 2

I must have blacked out because the last thing I remember was rising from the sofa and fleeing but now I found myself sitting in a living room, that wasn't my own, wrapped around Peeta as I sobbed into his shoulder.

"You said we were safe" I managed to say "you said we were _safe_!"

"I _know_ " he moaned, stroking my hair "I know I did, Katniss. I'm sorry, I didn't think this would happen. I'm sorry" he whispered.

Then I realised that it sounded like I was blaming him and I became angry at myself for being so selfish. "It's not your fault!" I tell him forcefully, pulling back from his embrace "it's Snow's. Snow did this!"

Peeta looks at me as though he's about to lose the only thing that ever mattered in his life and nods. "I know" and then his mouth was on mine, his arms around me; his every action filled with need, as though he was saying goodbye but who was I to deny him of this? Every moment spent together now was more special because, we both know that, only one us might come out of these games.

I fall asleep but don't manage to sleep for long. When I wake, I notice that the sky outside is still pitch black and that Peeta is sound asleep beside me. I lay there for a moment, thinking of nothing, until Haymitch comes to mind; it takes me a good few minutes to figure out why but, finally, I realise that though there may only be one female victor in district twelve there are two male victors which means that Peeta doesn't necessarily have to go into the arena. I don't _want_ him in the arena, at least if he's mentoring us from the outside there might be some chance of us having a future together but then that means asking Haymitch to go in his stead, asking Haymitch to give his life to save the future we've been keeping from him.

I slip out whilst Peeta's asleep and head over to Haymitch's house. I find him at the table in his kitchen, asleep, with a half drunk bottle of liquor in his hand. I nudge him a couple of times before resorting to shouting in his ear. "Haymitch!" I leap out of the way but not quick enough; the knife, he always sleeps with, slashes through several layers of flesh on my right arm. "Dammit" I curse as it starts bleeding and I look around for something clean to cover it with. Finding nothing, I end up ripping a strip of material from my shirt and wrapping it over the room.

"Finally figured it out, Sweetheart?" Haymitch asks groggily "come to ask me to die?"

"No" I lie, dropping down onto the chair beside him and taking the liquor from him "I came to drink."

"Why's there blood on my knife?" He asks stupidly.

"You cut me" I mutter, taking a swig of the clear liquid and immediately gagging on it. It doesn't taste very good but I carry on drinking it.

We sit in silence for a while, Haymitch working on a new bottle after I refused to give his original one back. "The boy came here a few hours ago" he tells me, breaking the silence "it astounds me how a selfless person like him can like a selfish person like you. Do you know what he wanted?"

Peeta was here? When? He must have done what I was doing now, slipped out whilst I was sleeping. "I can guess" I reply quietly.

"And what are you here for, Sweetheart?"

"I need to save him" I reply "you chose to save me the first time around, Haymitch, now it's time to save him."

Haymitch shook his head "you could live for a thousand years and never deserve him."

"I know!" I snap "don't you think I tell myself that every day?!" I grit my teeth, forcing myself to shut up before I say too much.

"I'll do what I can" he told me quietly "but if my name is called and he volunteers then there's nothing I can do."

"I know" I tell him, putting the bottle down before I completely lose sense of why I'm here and forget to return to Peeta "but, in the arena, you put him before me. _Please_ , Haymitch."

"I'll do what I can, Sweetheart" he repeated.

I nod, knowing that was the best answer I would get before getting up and returning to Peeta. He was still asleep when I entered the room but woke when I climbed into the bed. "You ok?" He asks.

"Yeah" I mumble, cuddling into him "just needed the toilet, go back to sleep."

"I love you, Katniss" he reminds me, pulling me closer "we'll be ok."

I nod, wanting to believe that we will but just say "I love you too, Peeta."

"You smell like booze" he commented just as I thought he'd fallen asleep.

"I know" was all I said before letting the alcohol drag me into some form of sleep.

When I awoke, Peeta's side of the bed was cold but the smell coming from downstairs informed me that he was cooking breakfast. I go down and find him standing in the kitchen, over the stove, in just his underwear. It took me a while to get used to his prosthetic leg but now I don't even really notice it. "Now that's a sight for sore eyes" I smile.

He turns around and grins back, wiggling his bum a little before turning back to the task at hand. "I was going to treat you to breakfast in bed but-"

"I can go back up there if you want?" I offer.

"Sounds a little too tempting" he replies, amused "but I need to talk to you and Haymitch."

"About what?"

"Katniss," he sighs "I'm not daft, I know that you went to see him last night and I know that he probably told you that I went to see him too." I nod at him for confirmation "one of us is going to go in that arena and I've decided that, either way, we need to get fit. I'll explain more once Haymitch is here" he pulls on his coat, a pair of trousers and some shoes before he turns the stove off and, just as he's about to leave he says "I also think that we need to tell Haymitch about us." The door shuts behind him and I sit alone in his kitchen for a few minutes wondering what the bigger plan is.

After dragging a harassed and hungover looking Haymitch into his kitchen and serving up breakfast, Peeta took his time explaining his plan which consisted of all of us training up, like the careers do, in preparing for the games; this includes eating more to gain weight, exercising, practicing our skills and, in Haymitch's case, trying to remain sober. "So, what?" I ask, after Peeta was finished "how is this supposed to help us?"

"We've all been in the games before" Peeta replied "sure, we know what it's like, but no arena is the same. Preparing ourselves physically as well as mentally will help us when it comes to actually going back in."

I sigh, nodding in agreement. He's right of course but I'm not sure how much help we can be to Haymitch; Peeta and I are both young still whereas Haymitch, though he's not old, has tortured his body with alcohol.

"I've gotten Prim to drain your entire alcohol stock" Peeta informed Haymitch.

"WHAT?!" Haymitch jumped up but didn't go anywhere.

"No point in trying to stop her" he was told "Prim would've done it by now, she's also threatening Ripper and anyone else you can get alcohol from so you can't buy anymore."

"Why Prim?" I ask over Haymitch's cursing.

"She was just leaving when I went to get Haymitch, she was looking for you; checking you were ok. I told her you were over here because I needed to talk to the both of you."

Haymitch stopped cursing and turned to stare at me in confusion "where have you been all night if you weren't at home?"

I look to Peeta for help, he was better at this than I was. "That was another thing Katniss and I wanted to talk to you about. Haymitch, Katniss and I are-" he smiled at me and, without hesitation, I smiled back "well, we're together."

It looked like our mentor was having a stroke. His mouth had gone slack as he just stared at us in complete and utter surprise. "For how long?" He finally asked.

"Since just before the Victory Tour, we made it official yesterday." I replied.

"By official you mean-"

"We had a toasting" Peeta nodded "we didn't want to be forced together because of Snow, we wanted to do it because that's what we wanted."

Haymitch turns to me before he bursts out laughing "your acting skills have greatly improved, Sweetheart! I had no idea!"

"Well that was kind of the point" I stated, oddly amused.

"So when Peeta proposed he was _actually_ proposing?"

"Kind of" Peeta shrugged "I proposed again, I gave her my great grandmother's wedding and engagement rings."

"And, once I've told my mother, I'll give him my father's" I say before turning to Peeta "I probably should give the rings back before I go back into the arena though."

"Why?" He asked, confused.

"Wouldn't want the Capitol to have them when I-"

"You are _not_ going to die, Katniss!" Peeta snapped "but no, you keep the rings, Katniss, they're yours now."

Haymitch shook his head, a smile still stretched across his lips "so you two are married now, huh?"

"We don't have a certificate or anything" Peeta states, stretching his arm so he could place his hand on my knee "but yes. We're married."

"Well congratulations" he tells us "I've gotta say, I'm glad that I won't have to be tutoring you on how to be in love with the boy, Sweetheart."

"Yeah" Peeta grins "she's pretty much perfected it, even has me fooled." He winks at me before taking hold of my hand, interlacing our fingers, and tucking into his breakfast, one handed.


	3. Chapter 3

Peeta became more of a drill sergeant than a husband but we all excelled under his regiment. He also contacted Effie and asked her to send us tapes of the other victors' games so that we could study them and possibly learn some new skills. Peeta took this much more seriously than either myself or Haymitch, watching intently and taking notes but we behaved.

The training continued but, about four months in, only a few months before the reaping my body began to reject the training. My body was sore and tired, most days I couldn't even keep my eyes open through dinner and Peeta had to carry me to bed; the nights were just as bad, I didn't have nightmares like I did before, I had very strange and vivid dreams about nothing in particular, waking up feeling, if possible, even more tired than I had been before falling asleep.

"Prim gave me some of this" Peeta muttered, holding up a bowl of white stuff I recognised as the cream Prim used to soothe our sore muscles. "She knows about us, doesn't she?"

I nod "yes, she mentioned it briefly just before the reading of the card."

"I like Prim" he commented, scooping up some of the mixture and massaging it into my sore legs.

"Prim is very hard _not_ to like" I laugh before groaning quietly as my stomach churned a little.

Peete wrapped his arms around me, once he'd finished applying the cream and moved into the bed beside me "maybe we should take a few days to rest up?" He suggested.

Normally, I'd disagree with him, tell him that we _need_ to do this but I couldn't because I could barely stand up on my sore feet. "That would be nice" I nod before my eyes closed without my permission and I drifted off to sleep with Peeta stroking my hair.

A pang in my stomach woke me the next morning and I was up and out of bed, running for the bathroom, before I could even work out what the time was. I vomited as quietly as I could, trying not to disturb Peeta, before washing up, brushing my teeth and returning to bed feeling tired but not quite as tired as I have been. "Hey" Peeta murmured as I re-joined him "what's up?"

"Probably just my stomach disagreeing with the goat meat we ate yesterday" I reply "don't worry about it, go back to sleep."

I suspect that Peeta may have stopped worrying about it if I hadn't thrown up again the next day or the next. On the fourth consecutive day, when I returned to bed, Peeta was sitting up against the headboard looking worried "Katniss?"

I shook my head, feeling just as worried as he looked "I don't know Peeta" I whisper, not even needing to hear his question.

"Maybe we should see your mother?" He suggested but then retracted that thought at the look on my face. "What about Prim?"

"No" I reply shortly.

"Fine, then what about Haymitch?"

"What the hell is he going to do?" I ask.

"Well I don't know!" Peeta says in flustered exasperation "I don't know what else to suggest, Katniss, but we need to do something."

I nod silently before turning to him. "I'm scared" I admitted "Peeta, what if-"

"We don't know that, do we?" He tells me, looking unconvinced.

Nobody talks to us about sex or things like it because it's not something people do unless they're married (in twelve) but I know, from brief talks with Cinna and Effie and overhearing conversations from my prep team, that the Capitol has something called birth control. It's a little pill that helps to prevent pregnancy but we don't have anything like that here in twelve; if you don't want children then you don't have sex, it's as simple as that. That's what Peeta and I should have done; we should have abstained but neither of us really thought about the consequences of the act, not until now anyway and, of course, it was much too late to abstain.

"Katniss?" He presses when I'm quiet for too long.

"Ok" I nod "let's talk to Haymitch."

We dress and head on over to Haymitch's house and are surprised to find him up, about and sober. "To what do I owe this visit?" He asks as we meet him in the kitchen, he then take a closer look at our faces and stops what he's doing. "What's wrong?" He asks, coming over to us.

"It's-" Peeta starts and then shakes his head. It's the first time I've seen him lost for words.

Haymitch leads us over to his table and makes us a drink; an action that, on any normal day, would have been more shocking than finding him sober. "Katniss?" He asks once he's set three mugs of coffee down on the table and has taken a chair.

We all know that I'm not good with words so Haymitch turning to me for an answer was a last resort but Haymitch isn't stupid. He takes another look at our faces, our entwined fingers and our hesitance before getting up and leaving the room only to return a moment later with three white and pink sticks. "I asked Effie to send me these as soon as you two came clean about your relationship." He dumps them in from of me. "Go pee on one and bring it back" he instructs me. When I didn't move, he sighs and removes the pink end from one of the sticks, revealing some kind of absorbent material; he thrusts the stick back at me and repeats "go pee on it and bring it back." As I reached the end of the hall, he called after me "and bring it back with the cap _on_!"

I did as I was told, peed on the absorbent bit of the stick, placed the pink cap back on it and took it back down to Haymitch. All the while still completely confused; I'd never seen one of those stick things before.

"How long has it been since your period?" Haymitch asked as I sat back down and handed him the stick.

I blinked at him, did he really just ask me that? Periods, like sex, are not something that is normally discussed. Sometimes the girls talk about it in the toilets at school but, other than that, isn't not a subject one likes to discuss…especially with men. Peeta is an exception, of course, but that's just Peeta; he doesn't care because he likes to make me comfortable when I'm in pain and those cramps are pretty damn painful. Also, seeing Haymitch taking charge of a situation that both Peeta and I are finding difficult to cope with, was pretty strange.

"Sweetheart," Haymitch sighed "I'm assuming that you're not willing to go to your mother so you're left with me and it's probably news to you that, before the games, it was my ambition to become a healer which means knowing things about the human body and anatomy that most people don't. Now, I'll ask you again, when was your last period?"

"I don't know" I whisper honestly; because of everything that's been going on I've just kind of lost track of everything. "They're not regular" I tell him when I saw his face "and I figured with the shock of going back in the arena and the training-" I trailed off.

He nods in understanding before glancing down at the stick as if it was going to tell him something which, by the sigh he let out, it did. "Well, there's no doubt about it; congratulations, you two. You're expecting a brat." He scratched his head for a moment before saying "I'm going to need to examine you to try and determine how far along you are."

My eyes widened "What? No way!"

"Then go to your mother!" He snapped "I'm trying to _help_ you, Katniss!"

"How do I even know that you're telling the truth about what you said and even if it is true, it was years ago! How do I know that you even know what you're talking about?!"

"It is true" Peeta muttered "before she died, his mother was a healer. He used to help her."

"Go look under the stairs, Sweetheart" Haymitch tells me coldly "go on!"

I go and what I find shocks me; there were mountains of medical books under there. "Where did you get them from?" I ask on my return.

"The Capitol. You believe me now?"

I nod. At least I now knew what Haymitch does with his free time when he's not passed out or blind drunk.

Peeta stood beside me as I lay on the bed in the spare room, the only room that had been left untouched and cleaner than the rest of the house. I don't know what Haymitch was doing but, whatever it was, it felt weird. "I can't be sure" he tells me "but I think you're about four months which means you'll be six months gone in the arena."

I cover my face with my hands and feel Peeta sit beside me on the bed. A baby? I was finally letting it sink in and I wasn't happy. How could Peeta and I have been so stupid? So careless? All those conversations with Gale about having children and me saying that I would never bring a child into the world whilst the games were still around. "It'll be ok, Katniss" Peeta tells me gently "we can-"

"We can what?" I ask harshly "I'm going back into the arena, regardless, and there will be three realities. One, I die which means the baby dies with me, two, I get injured and lose the baby or three, I survive the games and the baby is born into this evil world and that's not even looking at what'll happen to you!" I move off the bed and head for the door, Peeta follows. "No, Peeta!" I snap "I'm going home, I need to be alone right now." And I stalk off.

My mother and Prim were both out so I stomped up the stairs to my bedroom and slammed my door without worrying about them coming up to ask me what was wrong. Though they usually know to avoid me when I'm in one of my bad moods.

It was unfair of me to be taking this out on Peeta who'd been nothing but loving and supportive but I was terrified. I already loved this baby so much and the thought of losing it terrified me but the thought of it surviving terrified me even more. How could I let my child go through what I'd gone through? How selfish was I to do that?

I punched my bedroom wall before shoving a pillow to my face and screaming into it. I then collapsed onto my bed and let myself fall into a dark, cold, world as I wallowed by myself.

It had gone midday by the time I became aware of myself again and I felt my stomach rumbling. I'd forgotten to eat this morning. I got up from my bed and patted my stomach before frowning; I'd put on a little weight due to the new diet my mother had put the three of us on but this didn't feel like it should.

Moving around my room, I stepping in front of the mirror which was attached to my door before pulling my top up and finding that my stomach was protruding a little; not enough for other people to notice but I knew my body so I knew that this wasn't what my stomach should look like when gaining weight. I pushed my top back down and turned away from the mirror and the reminder of the life I'd selfishly brought about.

The next few days was spent hauled up in my room, ignoring everything and everyone. My mother and Prim came in a few times, telling me that it's going to be ok; they seemed to think that I was finally freaking out over having to go back into the arena. At least Haymitch hadn't let slip my condition to them. Had to give him credit for that, I suppose.

I was still surprised about what Haymitch had told us, about having been aspiring to become a healer; I wondered how different he'd be if his name hadn't been called for the games. I wondered if district twelve would have had a skilled healer, other than my mother of course. I wondered how different Haymitch would be, if he'd married and had children of his own. And then I felt sorry for him, sorry for the future he'd lost because the odds hadn't been in his favour.

Sitting up, I discovered that someone had braided my hair; I hadn't even realised that I'd been that out of it. I also discovered that Peeta was asleep on the floor, opposite my bed. "Peeta" I mumbled, realising just how selfish I'd been, this was his baby too and I was hauled up in my bedroom feeling sorry for myself rather than leaning on him for support as he'd lean on me. I crawled out of bed and made my way over to him, sliding down the wall and sitting beside him. I clasped his hand in mine, waking him up as our skin made contact. "I'm sorry" I tell him as I felt tears slide from my eyes, betraying me. "I'm so sorry, Peeta; I'm being selfish again."

"Hey" he embraced me, as he does when I'm upset "you're not being Selfish" he tells me. "I know that it's different for you; you're the one who's carrying out baby so it's you that has to be careful. I understand."

I shake my head before kissing him. Upon releasing him, I say "how could I not love you, Peeta?"

At my words, he smiles before pulling me in for another kiss. This one was soft and gentle, just like Peeta. "Haymitch wants to talk to you" he tells me, his lips still against mine.

"What about?"

"Our new plan."


	4. Chapter 4

Peeta may have spoken to Haymitch either that or Haymitch was genuinely trying to be nicer to me because, since finding out about the baby, he'd been a lot nicer toward me than what I was used to and it was weird.

We'd discussed several different possibilities before settling on keeping the information to ourselves for the time being as we didn't want the Capitol to find out and make new arrangements that could end up making things worse for us.

"We could use it for your interview" Haymitch told Peeta "most of the Capitol believe your love story but the victors don't; it would cause a riot."

"Why would it cause a riot?" I ask

"Well, I can't believe that the victors are happy about being thrown back into the games and I'm guessing that most of them will do or say most anything to try and put a stop to it, not that that will happen" Haymitch sighs " _but_ announcing your pregnancy in front of the cameras and a live audience who dote on the two of you, they'll probably call for something to be done."

"And do you think they'll be listened to?" Asks Peeta

Haymitch shakes his head "no but it will probably make some of the the citizens in the Capitol question the games, it'll shake their belief in their president. It might be just enough to start a movement; what kind of movement, I don't know."

"But aren't we supposed to be calming the districts?" I ask.

Haymitch sighed "in retrospect, yes, but after the stung they've pulled by reaping the remaining victors, I think they've kinda shot themselves in the foot."

Peeta and I nod. That's true, the districts won't be happy about having their victors reaped again and the Capitol…I know that citizens on the Capitol get pretty attached to the victors. "Then why are they doing it?" Peeta asks.

"To kill me" I reply without hesitation. "Snow wants me dead and doing it this way means that he doesn't have to get his hands dirty." The silence that followed confirmed that the other two agreed with what I'd just said, they just didn't want to voice it. "You know I'm going to have to tell Cinna and my prep team, don't you?" I tell Haymitch. "Like you said, I'll be six months gone and definitely showing, he'll probably know before I even strip off."

"I know" he nods "let's just hope they can keep their mouths zipped until Peeta has his interview."

"Cinna can keep a secret" I assure my mentor.

"I wasn't worried about Cinna."

"Maybe if you get to him first, he can prep you without needing the team?" Peeta suggests "or might be able to do something to make you look…not pregnant. What?" He asks when Haymitch and I both look at him "you don't know what they can do because Cinna won't allow it. There must be something."

Peeta and I spend the rest of the day together; I still felt bad about shutting him out. He's my husband now, we're supposed to support each other and I didn't even give him a chance but he was still being very forgiving. Telling me not to worry about it, that he understands and probably would have done the same if he were me but we both knew that that wasn't true. Peeta would never shut me out because he's is about as unselfish as they come.

The next few weeks were tough; we continued to train and eat and observe the other victors. All of us now more determined than ever to make it through these games.

On the evening before reaping day, I was in Peeta's kitchen, sitting on the counter as he washed up our dinner plates. Once again, I was lost in thought and it wasn't until Peeta was directly in front of me, wrapping his arms around me, that I realised he was there, standing between my legs. "What are you thinking about?" He asks.

I shrug "not much; Gale really."

"Oh" he nods in understanding.

Gale hadn't spoken to me since about a month after the games when he'd kissed me but became offended when I didn't return it. Things between us changed a little after our new peacekeeper whipped him to within an inch of his life and I had to take him to my mother but, after he left her care and went home, I hadn't heard from him. I think he might have noticed how I am toward Peeta because, just like Prim, he's very observant. "He'll come around."

"Maybe" I sigh "I know that I'm not one to talk but I think he's being very selfish."

"I think he's wounded" Peeta replies. "The guy is crazy about you, Katniss, and, being your husband, I can't say that I blame him." He smiles "you still have no idea the effect you have on people, do you?"

"Gale's like my brother," I protested "he would never-" but, now that I think about it, it did make sense. I sighed again before leaning down and wrapping my arms around Peeta's neck, pressing my forehead to his. "I wish life wasn't so complicated sometimes."

"Life, without complications, would be easy which would mean that it would be boring" Peeta tells me "and I'd rather it be complicated than boring."

I nod but didn't agree. Right now, I'd take boring if it meant that I could have Gale back. "Let's not talk about Gale, we leave tomorrow" I remind him "I'd rather be focusing on you." And Peeta, catching on to my mood, grins as his lips take mine.

"My eyes!" Someone screams "goddammit, do you two have no self-preservation left?"

Peeta and I turn our heads, still tangled together, to see that Haymitch had let himself into Peeta's kitchen. "Ever heard of knocking?" I ask, hopping down from the counter and tugging my shirt back into place.

"You two are going to be the death of me!" He retorts "someone of my age should not have witness stuff like that!"

"Oh, come on" Peeta chuckles "we were only kissing."

"And kissing leads to-" he stops before shaking his head "fucking hell, I thought you two were abstaining."

"What for?" I ask with a sigh "I'm already pregnant, what's the worst that can happen now?"

Haymitch just huffs before turning on his heel and leaving, not even bothering to tell us why he'd come in the first place. "Let's go to bed" Peeta suggested.

"Good idea, I want to be up early tomorrow so that I can spend some time with my family."

"I wasn't thinking about going to sleep" he tells me.

And, with a wicked smile, I reply with "I know."


	5. Chapter 5

I spent the next morning with Prim and our mother; we didn't do much, just sat around the table making idle chit chat.

"It feels different this year" Prim commented.

"Yeah" I sighed "that's because everyone knows who's going to go into the games. The families and the children don't need to worry."

My little sister stared at me before putting her hands over mine just as someone knocked on the front door. "I'll get it" our mother stated.

"I didn't mean it like that" Prim shook her head "I meant that," she shook her head "I don't know; it's hard to explain."

"I know" I nod, looking up to see Gale standing in the doorway. I survey him warily.

"Hey Catnip." He mutters

I raise my eyebrows at him as I say "you've come to talk to me now that I'm about to die again?"

The two of us were left alone to talk but there was nothing I wanted to say to Gale, not after everything. "I'm sorry" he sighed, taking a seat at the table "I didn't mean for it to go this far; I couldn't let you go without apologising."

"Peeta says you're jealous" I tell him "I told Peeta that he was wrong, that you're like my brother, but he doesn't know that you kissed me."

"I wanted to tell you but I didn't see the point; you'd told me what you thought of marriage and stuff before, I thought that you'd laugh at me."

"Then you don't know me." I reply "I wouldn't laugh at you, Gale. You're my best friend."

He nods, still looking a little morose, before getting up "I'd better go and let you get ready. I'll come and say goodbye to you after the reaping."

I allow him to hug me and accept his second, muttered apology, before watching him walk away from the village. Peeta had spotted me leaning in the doorway and came over. "It's ok, Katniss" he told me, watching Gale's retreating back "you'll see him after the reaping when he comes to say goodbye."

But he didn't.

After Effie had pulled my name from the glass bowl, I watched Haymitch as Effie moved onto the male tribute bowl. He nodded to me, telling me that he hadn't forgotten and that he'd volunteer if Peeta's name was called but he deflated a little when Effie called out his name and Peeta, without even pausing, volunteered in Haymitch's place. We were then ordered straight to the train, unable to say goodbye to our family and friends.

"We'll write letters" Peeta told me as I stared out of the train window "get Haymitch to send them for us."

I nod but know that I'll never write to them. I moved away from the window and headed for the car which was to be mine until we arrived at the Capitol. I shower before returning to Peeta who was sitting on my bed, waiting for me. I was aware that he was watching me as I dried myself off but didn't think anything of it; we'd both seen the other naked more than once, it's not something that bothered me anymore.

"Hey" I looked up at him as I was about to throw on my shirt "come here a sec."

I frown, wondering what it was he wanted "Peeta, we don't have time to do anything right now; Effie will be calling us for dinner at any moment."

He smiles and shakes his head "Katniss, I don't have a one track mind you know. Would you just come here?" I move over to him and watch as he places his hands on my protruding stomach. I'd grown a little more over the past few months and had taken to wearing baggy tops in an attempt to hide it. It had worked, I think, at least no one had mentioned it. "You're so beautiful" he told me, before kissing the area just above my belly button. Peeta wasn't thinking of the tragic circumstances, he wasn't thinking about the fact that I'd probably lose our baby in the arena; he was taking each day as it comes, probably enjoying the pregnancy more that I was.

I put my hand on his head and he presses his ear to my stomach, as if he was expecting to hear the baby or something, but I didn't stop him; it was comforting.

And that's when Haymitch decided to walk in.

"Are you two going at it again?!" He half groans, taking in Peeta's position and my half-dressed state.

"No, Haymitch" Peeta sighs, sitting back up.

"Oh" our mentor frowns and scratches his head. "Wow, Sweetheart, you've really ballooned."

I roll my eyes before saying "you should really be more careful about how you talk to a pregnant woman; I've heard we can become quite irrational if offended."

"So you'll be the same as normal then?" He grins before telling us that we're wanted in the dining car and leaving.

I pull my top on and throw on a baggy over shirt before taking Peeta's hand and letting him guide the way toward dinner. "You think Effie will notice?" I ask, stopping him before we could enter.

Peeta stands back and looks at me before bending down and adjusting my top. "No and if she does just act offended and rant about her calling you fat." He kisses my forehead before heading in.

Effie had on a gold wig, something I'd noticed but not mentioned because I was so used to her eccentric hairstyles, Peeta, however decided to compliment her on it.

"I like your new hair, Effie" he told her, halfway through dessert, earning himself a beam from her.

"Thank you" she pats her hair "I thought that we should all be matching this year; Katniss has her pin, I have my hair and I'm thinking about getting you two something so that we can, you know, be a team."

"We _are_ a team, Effie" I say.

She looks at me and nods before saying "shall we go and watch the recap of the reapings?"

I went to bed, that night, with the images of the tributes flashing through my mind. The one that had hit me the most was little old Mags, from district four, who'd volunteered in place of a frantic looking girl. The old woman looked as though a fly would knock her over. I curled up alone, Peeta had decided to stay up a bit longer with his notebook, and eventually fell asleep but, without Peeta beside me, I didn't sleep for long and I got up to find him watching the year Brutus won.

"You should go back to bed" he told me when I sat down beside him "you need as much sleep as you can get."

"I tried" I tell him "but, nightmares, you know?"

He looks at me before nodding "sorry, I didn't plan on being up this long."

I tuck my bare feet under his legs and let him wrap an arm around me. "It's alright, I ordered some warm milk; my father used to make it for me when I was younger, after I had nightmares."

"I would like to have met your father" Peeta mutters "I've heard that you're like him in many ways, I'm sure that I'd have liked him."

"You would" I nod as a Capitol attendant arrives with my order.

"I brought an extra cup," he says.

"Thanks," I say.

"And I added a touch of honey to the milk. For sweetness. And just a pinch of spice," he adds. He looks at us like he wants to say more, then gives his head a slight shake and backs out of the room.

"What's with him?" I say.

"I think he feels bad for us," says Peeta.

"Right," I say, pouring the milk.

"I mean it. I don't think the people in the Capitol are going to be all that happy about our going back in," says Peeta. "Or the other victors. They get attached to their champions."

"I'm guessing they'll get over it once the blood starts flowing," I say flatly. Really, if there's one thing I don't have time for, it's worrying about how the Quarter Quell will affect the mood in the Capitol. "So, you're watching all the tapes again?"

"Not really. Just sort of skipping around to see people's different fighting techniques," says Peeta. "Who's next?" I ask.

"You pick," says Peeta, holding out the box.

The tapes are marked with the year of the Games and the name of the victor. I dig around and suddenly find one in my hand that we have not watched. The year of the Games is fifty. That would make it the second Quarter Quell. And the name of the victor is Haymitch Abernathy.

"We never watched this one," I say.

Peeta shakes his head. "No. I knew Haymitch didn't want to. The same way we didn't want to relive our own Games. And since we're all on the same team, I didn't think it mattered much."

"Is the person who won in twenty-five in here?" I ask.

"I don't think so. Whoever it was must be dead by now, and Effie only sent me victors we might have to face." Peeta weighs Haymitch's tape in his hand. "Why? You think we ought to watch it?"

"It's the only Quell we have. We might pick up something valuable about how they work," I say. But I feel weird. It seems like some major invasion of Haymitch's privacy. I don't know why it should, since the whole thing was public. But it does. I have to admit I'm also extremely curious. "We don't have to tell Haymitch we saw it."

Haymitch wins his games by showing the Capitol up, just like I did. He uses a force field to his advantage and the tribute he's left with ends up with her own axe buried in her skull.

After a moment or two of silence, Peeta says, "That force field at the bottom of the cliff, it was like the one on the roof of the Training Centre. The one that throws you back if you try to jump off and commit suicide. Haymitch found a way to turn it into a weapon."

"Not just against the other tributes, but the Capitol, too," I say. "You know they didn't expect that to happen. It wasn't meant to be part of the arena. They never planned on anyone using it as a weapon. It made them look stupid that he figured it out. I bet they had a good time trying to spin that one. Bet that's why I don't remember seeing it on television. It's almost as bad as us and the berries!"

I can't help laughing, really laughing, for the first time in months. Peeta just shakes his head like I've lost my mind - and maybe I have, a little.

"Almost, but not quite," says Haymitch from behind us. I whip around, afraid he's going to be angry over us watching his tape, but he just smirks and takes a swig from a bottle of wine. So much for sobriety. I guess I should be upset he's drinking again, but I'm preoccupied with another feeling.

I've spent all these weeks getting to know who my competitors are, without even thinking about who my teammates are. Now a new kind of confidence is lighting up inside of me, because I think I finally know who Haymitch is. And I'm beginning to know who I am. And surely, two people who have caused the Capitol so much trouble can think of a way to get Peeta home alive.


	6. Chapter 6

I needn't have worried about my prep team noticing my swollen stomach, they were much too pre-occupied with their own feelings. All three of them were crying as they prepped me for Cinna and I was the one who had to console them.

By the time Cinna arrived, I was exhausted.

"Had a wet morning?" He asks as he takes in my expression.

"You could practically wring me out" I mutter, clutching at my robe.

Cinna notices this and frowns; I don't usually bother replacing my robe as he'd just tell me to remove it anyway but I was scared of him noticing the changes and I was scared to tell him even though I needed to. "I'll talk to them" he tells me before gesturing at me "what's going on?"

"I need to tell you something" I reply nervously.

Noticing my expression, Cinna comes over and sits beside me on the bed. "Tell me" he requests softly.

It took a moment or two for me to realise that I wasn't able to say the words so I stood up and dropped my robe, standing naked before him. Cinna is always professional when it comes to looking at me; I know that, when he stares at my naked form, he's thinking about what dress would make me look perfect or what hairstyle he should use. I didn't need to worry about any perverted thoughts because he just wasn't that kind of person.

My stylist knows my body better than I do so it didn't take him long to notice the change. "Katniss" he whispers, placing his hands on my stomach "who-"

"Peeta" I tell him "but, Cinna, this needs to be kept quiet. Haymitch, you, Peeta and I are the only ones who know about this right now and it needs to stay that way."

He nods in understanding, his hands still on my stomach. "I didn't even have any idea that you liked him." He tells me.

"Most people don't" I shrug "we decided to keep it to ourselves. We got married, you know" I say, deciding that telling Cinna the truth wouldn't hurt anyone. "Not official, like with a certificate or anything, but we have this toasting in my district and it makes the marriage official."

"So you and Peeta did the toasting?" Cinna smiles.

I nod "yes, we decided to have our marriage on our terms rather than the Capitols but, if we'd have known that there was a chance of us going back into the arena, I don't think we'd have done it and we certainly wouldn't have-" I had to turn my head away from Cinna, I might not mind Peeta seeing me cry but it still made me uncomfortable to do it around other people.

"Hey" he comforts me, moving his hands to grip my arms "Katniss, what's done is done. You enjoyed the time you had together and it's not over yet; I'm still betting on you, girl on fire."

He embraces me for a moment before leaving to, I assume, make some adjustments to my costume and, I was finally allowed to see my costume. "Cinna" I whispered "it's…" I sighed, staring at my reflection in the mirror. He'd bulked it out, making me look toned rather than fat or pregnant; even turning to the side, I didn't look any different.

"You like it?" He asked, grinning.

I nod before turning back to the mirror. The costume looks deceptively simple at first, just a fitted black jumpsuit that covers me from the neck down. He places a half crown like the one I received as victor on my head, but it's made of a heavy black metal, not gold. Then he adjusts the light in the room to mimic twilight and presses a button just inside the fabric on my wrist. I look down, fascinated, as my ensemble slowly comes to life, first with a soft golden light but gradually transforming to the orange-red of burning coal. I look as if I have been coated in glowing embers - no, that I am a glowing ember straight from our fireplace. The colours rise and fall, shift and blend, in exactly the way the coals do.

"How did you do this?" I say in wonder.

"Portia and I spent a lot of hours watching fires," says Cinna. "Now look at yourself."

He turns me toward a mirror so that I can take in the entire effect. I do not see a girl, or even a woman, but some unearthly being who looks like she might make her home in the volcano that destroyed so many in Haymitch's Quell. The black crown, which now appears red-hot, casts strange shadows on my dramatically made-up face. Katniss, the girl on fire, has left behind her flickering flames and bejewelled gowns and soft candlelight frocks. She is as deadly as fire itself.

"I think ... this is just what I needed to face the others," I say.

"Yes, I think your days of pink lipstick and ribbons are behind you," says Cinna. He touches the button on my wrist again, extinguishing my light. "Let's not run down your power pack. When you're on the chariot this time, no waving, no smiling. I just want you to look straight ahead, as if the entire audience is beneath your notice."

"Finally something I'll be good at," I say, running a hand over my stomach. I could still feel the bump beneath the suit but, just for a moment, I let myself believe that I wasn't pregnant.

"Wow!" Peeta exclaimed when he finally arrived at the ground floor of the remake centre where I was waiting beside our chariot "Cinna's exceptional" he stares at me, looking me up and down "how did he-" I just shake my head, silently telling him that this isn't the time to talk about it. "What did Finnick want?"

"To know all my secrets" I sigh.

Peeta laughs "so what do you think of our getup?"

"Amazing, I think it's his best yet."

He nods. "Shall we?" He asks, gesturing to the chariot as the music begins. He helps me in and keeps hold of my hands. "You think they want us to hold hands this year?"

"Not sure" I shrug, looking around for our team "won't hurt, will it?"

"No" Peeta shakes his head, giving my hand a squeeze as our chariot begins to move.

We don't turn our suits on until we're out of the doors and then we stare ahead, not even acknowledging the people who are screaming our names. It was nice to be myself for a change, not having to force myself to smile and wave but to actually act like I hate everything about the games and everyone who's involved in it; only, I'm not acting.

Peeta and I only relax when we're back in the room with the doors shut behind us. "I need to get back upstairs" I sigh, letting Peeta help me down.

"What's up?" He asks.

"Just tired" I decided not to tell him that I was feeling a little woozy.

Cinna and Portia are pleased with our performance but when Peeta excuses the both of us we are intercepted by Haymitch who introduces us to Chaff and Seeder, from district eleven. "Haymitch" Peeta steps in when Chaff plants a wet kiss right on my lips, making feel sick to my stomach "we were just heading back up."

I grip Peeta's arm, trying to steady myself. It seems that all of the adrenaline had now worn off and I was in almost imminent danger of keeling over. Haymitch seemed to notice this because he says goodbye to to his friends, takes my free arm, and leads up over to the lifts. "You two were stunning" he comments "keep up the act and people will be fighting to be the first to sponsor you and you" he turns to me, his eyebrows raised "how did Cinna-"

"That's a discussion for another time" Peeta tells him as a girl I recognised as Johanna Mason, district seven, steps into the lift before the doors close on us.

I drown out her complaining as she peels herself out of her costume, standing completely naked before us.

"Have you eaten today?" Peeta asks quietly as Johanna starts talking to Haymitch.

"A bit, not enough" I reply, my stomach starting to grumble. What with everything being so hectic, I hadn't really had much time.

"You need to make sure you're getting enough to eat" he tells me. "I know it seems a bit counterproductive, seeing as we'll be in the arena soon, but whilst we're here-"

I nod "I know." Johanna turns the conversation to Peeta, asking him about his painting talents. When the lift finally stopped on her floor, she winks at the three of us and smiles as she waves goodbye. "Why did she do that?" I ask, a little disgruntled and still feeling ill from Chaff's kiss.

"They're teasing you" Peeta chuckles.

"Why?"

"Because of our games" he shrugs, now beginning to laugh at me. "Because you didn't want to see me naked." This immediately puts me in a bad mood and I cross my arms, turning away from both of them because Haymitch was now laughing too. "Oh come on, Katniss; they're just having fun."

"Yeah, at my expense" I growl "and you are both laughing at me too!"

The moment the doors open, on our floor, I'm out of the lift and stomping down the corridor toward my bedroom but, out of the corner of my eye, I see something that makes me stop dead.

This year we had two Avox's; the ginger girl from last year and another red head, male. I blink back tears as I begin shaking. "Katniss?" Peeta's beside me now "what's going on?" He followed my gaze and spots our new avox but, even though he knows who it is, he couldn't understand how I was feeling right now.

It was Darius, the guy who'd tried to help Gale at the whipping post and got smacked in the head, the guy who used to tease me in the hob, the guy who made kind of like peacekeepers. I bit back a sob before turning back and hurrying to my bedroom, pushing the door shut behind me.

I showered, washing the makeup from my face, before dressing in some loose fitting clothes that I'd dumped in the bathroom earlier and walked back into my bedroom to find someone sitting on my bed. That someone, however, wasn't Peeta; it was Haymitch. "Come here, Sweetheart" he said, opening his arms for me.

Without hesitation, I went over to him and allowed him to embrace me. In some situations Haymitch was easier to handle than Peeta; Haymitch had known Darius just as much as I did, maybe even better, so he understands how I'm feeling a lot better than Peeta does. It was proven in our first games that neither of us really needed to use words to communicate, this also helps. We just sit in silence for a while, wallowing together, until Peeta comes in, announcing that it's dinner time.

I hold back for a minute, letting Haymitch leave so that I could talk to Peeta. "I'm sorry" I shook my head "Haymitch just-"

"It's ok" Peeta smiles "I understand, you two used the hob and I didn't. It's understandable that you'd accept his comfort."

"I just can't believe they made him an avox" I sigh sadly "poor Darius."

"I'm not saying that it's not horrible because it is" he nods "but you have to remember that they're doing everything they can to unnerve you, don't let them see that it's working." He takes me hand and kisses it, to show me that he was, indeed, alright with everything before towing me out of my room and to the table where everyone was already sitting.

I was ravenous. I'd eaten three portions before most had finished their first. Effie clucked at me in disapproval, obviously wanting to say something about my table manners, but I didn't care. I chanced a look at Darius, who was standing close to me, and found that his eyes were bright with the amusement he was trying not to show on his lips. I accidentally on purpose knocked a dish of peas on the floor and was down there, with Darius, trying to pick them up. I stared at him for a moment, our hands touching, wanting to apologise for everything because it was my fault he was here but I couldn't. I didn't want to get him punished further.

"Katniss!" Effie shrieked, bringing me back to earth "that is not _your_ job!"

The next night was spent tossing and turning, waking from dreams about mutilated tongues. Even Peeta couldn't keep those nightmares away.

I gave up on sleep when Peeta woke up; something about my body language told him that I hadn't slept much, if at all. He rubs my back as I sat, hunched up, beside him. "Want to talk about it?" He asks.

"I'm not going to breakfast today, Peeta" I mutter miserably "I -"

He sits up and hugs me "it's ok, I'm sure Haymitch will get over it. Do you want me to stay with you?"

I shook my head "no, you'd better go else they'll come hunting us both down."

After Peeta had left, I wandered aimlessly around my room for a while ordering anything and everything from the menu and continue to walk around eating it. I didn't want to go to breakfast with the others, we were supposed to be discussing training but what was the point? The odds of coming out alive are very slim and, with Snow trying to kill me, the odds I may have had become less than zero.

Come nine thirty, Haymitch is hammering on bedroom door ordering me to the dining room I should have been at an hour or so ago.

"Nice of you to join us, Sweetheart" he snarls as I find him and Peeta sitting in the dining room.

"Well _sorry_ " I snap back "I slept in after the mutilated tongue nightmares kept me up half the night." I'd meant to sound harsh, hostile, but something wavered in my voice that just made me sound sad and a little pathetic.

Haymitch continues to glare at me for a moment before relenting. "Fine" he sighed "I'll give you a quick rundown of what I told Peeta. The plan is, during training, you're to make friends. You're not going it alone in the arena this year, you're going to need allies and that, Sweetheart, is non-negotiable."

Peeta and I went down to the training centre alone; Haymitch had told Effie not to escort us like she had done last year because the other tributes would not have a baby sitter. She had to make do with faffing about us until the doors to lift closed. "Do you think she's noticed yet?" I asked Peeta, placing a hand on my stomach. The suit Cinna had left for me for training had been altered like last night's costume. He'd told me that he'd added extra protection around my abdomen to try and keep the baby safe whilst I trained. I was grateful but, of course, it felt unnecessary.

I felt that my small bump was more prominent than it had been yesterday but Peeta shook his head. "She'd have said something to you, you know what she's like. Besides" he stared at me for a moment "I don't think anyone would notice unless they're aware of the situation. I can see it but" he shrugged "that's because I know it's there."

It hadn't really been necessary for us to turn up to training early but, because we'd been the last to arrive last year, Effie had insisted. Not even half of the tributes had turned up and even then the ones that were here looked a little worse for wear.

We listened patiently to the talk by Atala before we were let loose. "Think we should split?" I ask "cover more ground?"

Peeta wasn't keep on splitting up but nodded. "Just call me if you need me" he instructs before letting go of my hand and trudging off toward Brutus and Chaff to chuck spears.

I spent the day circling around a few of the tributes; Beetee and Wiress who show me how to detect a force field, I show them how to make a fire and Mags, who's making fishhooks. I'd told Peeta, at lunch, that I wanted to ally with Beetee and Wiress (an idea he'd scoffed at, telling me that Johanna calls them 'Nuts and Volts') so telling him that I wanted Mags, a little old woman who couldn't say boo to a goose, would not go down well either so I give up trying to make friends and head over to the archery range.

It's wonderful there, getting to try out all the different bows and arrows. The trainer, Tax, seeing that the standing targets offer no challenge for me, begins to launch these silly fake birds high into the air for me to hit. At first it seems stupid, but it turns out to be kind of fun. Much more like hunting a moving creature. Since I'm hitting everything he throws up, he starts increasing the number of birds he sends airborne. I forget the rest of the gym and the victors and how miserable I am and lose myself in the shooting. When I manage to take down five birds in one round, I realize it's so quiet I can hear each one hit the floor. I turn and see the majority of the victors have stopped to watch me. Their faces show everything from envy to hatred to admiration.

"So, Sweetheart" Haymitch says at dinner "at least half of the victors want you as allies. What did you do? I know that it can't be your sunny personality." I figured that he was still peeved about this morning because, since we'd found out about the baby, he'd been a lot nicer to me.

"They saw her shoot" Peeta tells him, helping himself to some peas.

"You're that good?" Our mentor raised his eyes "so good that Brutus wants you?"

I stared at him, sure that I should feel a little offended that he had little faith in my shooting skills but then reminded myself that they didn't get to see much in the games, most of the targets had been too easy. "Yes but I don't want Brutus" I tell him "I want Mags and District three."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peeta roll his eyes as Haymitch sighs. "Of course you do; I'll tell them that you're still making up your mind."


	7. Chapter 7

After my shooting exhibition, I still get teased some, but I no longer feel like I'm being mocked. In fact, I feel as if I've somehow been initiated into the victors' circle. During the next two days, I spend time with almost everybody headed for the arena. Even the morphlings, who, with Peeta's help, paint me into a field of yellow flowers. Even Finnick, who gives me an hour of trident lessons in exchange for an hour of archery instruction. And the more I come to know these people, the worse it is. Because, on the whole, I don't hate them. And some I like. And a lot of them are so damaged that my natural instinct would be to protect them. But all of them must die if I'm to save Peeta.

The final day of training ends with our private sessions. We each get fifteen minutes before the Gamemakers to amaze them with our skills, but I don't know what any of us might have to show them. There's a lot of kidding about it at lunch. What we might do. Sing, dance, strip, tell jokes. Mags, who I can understand a little better now, decides she's just going to take a nap. I don't know what I'm going to do. Shoot some arrows, I guess. Haymitch said to surprise them if we could, but I'm fresh out of ideas.

As the girl from 12, I'm scheduled to go last. The dining room gets quieter and quieter as the tributes file out to go perform. It's easier to keep up the irreverent, invincible manner we've all adopted when there are more of us. As people disappear through the door, all I can think is that they have a matter of days to live.

Peeta and I are finally left alone. He reaches across the table to take my hands. "Decided what to do for the Gamemakers yet?"

I shake my head. "I can't really use them for target practice this year, with the force field up and all. Maybe make some fishhooks. What about you?"

"Not a clue. I keep wishing I could bake a cake or something," he says.

"Do some more camouflage," I suggest.

"If the morphlings have left me anything to work with," he says wryly. "They've been glued to that station since training started."

We sit in silence awhile and then I blurt out the thing that's on both our minds. "How are we going to kill these people, Peeta?"

"I don't know." He leans his forehead down on our entwined hands.

"I don't want them as allies. Why did Haymitch want us to get to know them?" I say. "It'll make it so much harder than last time. Except for Rue maybe. But I guess I never really could've killed her, anyway. She was just too much like Prim."

Peeta looks up at me, his brow creased in thought. "Her death was the most despicable, wasn't it?"

"None of them were very pretty," I say, thinking of Glimmer's and Cato's ends.

They call Peeta, so I wait by myself. Fifteen minutes pass. Then half an hour. It's close to forty minutes before I'm called.

When I go in, I smell the sharp odour of cleaner and notice that one of the mats has been dragged to the centre of the room. The mood is very different from last year's, when the Gamemakers were half drunk and distractedly picking at tidbits from the banquet table. They whisper among themselves, looking somewhat annoyed. What did Peeta do? Something to upset them?

I feel a pang of worry. That isn't good. I don't want Peeta singling himself out as a target for the Gamemakers' anger. That's part of my job. To draw fire away from Peeta. But how did he upset them? Because I'd love to do just that and more. To break through the smug veneer of those who use their brains to find amusing ways to kill us. To make them realize that while we're vulnerable to the Capitol's cruelties, they are as well.

Do you have any idea how much I hate you? I think. You, who have given your talents to the Games?

I try to catch Plutarch Heavensbee's eye, but he seems to be intentionally ignoring me, as he has the entire training period. I remember how he sought me out for a dance, how pleased he was to show me the mockingjay on his watch. His friendly manner has no place here. How could it, when I'm a mere tribute and he's the Head Gamemaker? So powerful, so removed, so safe ...

Suddenly I know just what I'm going to do. Something that will blow anything Peeta did right out of the water. I go over to the knot-tying station and get a length of rope. I start to manipulate it, but it's hard because I've never made this actual knot myself. I've only watched Finnick's clever fingers, and they moved so fast. After about ten minutes, I've come up with a respectable noose. I drag one of the target dummies out into the middle of the room and, using some chinning bars, hang it so it dangles by the neck. Tying its hands behind its back would be a nice touch, but I think I might be running out of time. I hurry over to the camouflage station, where some of the other tributes, undoubtedly the morphlings, have made a colossal mess. But I find a partial container of bloodred berry juice that will serve my needs. The flesh-coloured fabric of the dummy's skin makes a good, absorbent canvas. I carefully finger paint the words on its body, concealing them from view. Then I step away quickly to watch the reaction on the Gamemakers' faces as they read the name on the dummy.

 ** _Seneca Crane_**

I excused myself without permission and made my way back up to floor twelve. My adrenaline rush crashed in the lift, however, and I began to worry about the repercussions of my actions. How could I have been so stupid when I have my mother and Prim to think about? How can I keep them safe when I'm in the Capitol pulling stupid stunts that could get everybody I know and love executed. Despite this, however, I still didn't regret my actions. I wasn't sorry about what I did and I was glad that my decision unnerved the Gamemakers.

At dinner, Haymitch finally asked the question. "How did your private sessions go?"

"I painted Rue" Peeta replies, shrugging "I figured that her death was the most despicable and so I painted how I imagine she'd have looked after Katniss decorated her in flowers."

"And what good did you think that would do?" Haymitch asks sounding annoyed.

"None, probably, I just wanted the Gamemakers to accept responsibility for her death."

I smile a little, taking his hand under the table and noticing that it was stained with the colours he'd used. "And you, Sweetheart?"

Pausing for a moment, thinking about what Peeta had just said, I smiled a little as I told them what I did "I hung Seneca Crane."

Effie's reaction was the one that shocked me most. She gasped audibly, her eyes wide, as she said "how did you know about that, Katniss?"

I stare at her, wanting to tell her the truth but knew that I couldn't. Not without endangering her. So I lied. "He went missing, I made a guess which, as it turns out, was probably accurate."

"Well that's that then" Haymitch sighs "let's hope the two of you haven't damaged what reputation you did have."

"We also decided that we don't want any allies" Peeta states.

"Good" our mentor nods "then I won't be responsible for you killing off my friends with your stupidity."

"That's just what we were thinking" I tell him.

We finish the rest of dinner in silence before retiring in front of the television to watch the training scores.

"Have they ever given a zero?" I ask.

"No, but there's a first time for everything," Cinna answers.

And it turns out he's right. Because when Peeta and I each pull a twelve, we make Hunger Games history. No one feels like celebrating, though.

"Why did they do that?" I ask.

"So that the others will have no choice but to target you," says Haymitch flatly. "Go to bed. I can't stand to look at either one of you."

"Why did you do it?" Peeta asks me in a hushed tone as we lay in my bed, one hand on my naked bump and the other playing with my hair.

"I guess for the same reason you did" I say "I wanted them to be accountable."

Peeta sighs quietly, his gaze going from my face to my stomach. "What a life we could have had together" he mutters "me, you, and our baby. You weren't planned" he murmurs to my stomach "but I love you just the same." He rests his head on my chest, both hands placed on my bump. It's my turn to comfort him, stroking his hair as I let him mumble to our unborn child and that's how Haymitch finds us the next morning.

I have a feeling that he'd been standing there a little while because, when I opened my eyes to see him standing there, he had an odd look on his face; a mix between grief, confusion, repulsion and sadness. I run my hands through Peeta's hair again before muttering "what do you want, Haymitch?"

He swallows, evidently a little embarrassed that he'd been caught. "I just came to tell you that your lessons have been cancelled; Effie and I agree that you two can handle yourselves." He then left, shutting the door quietly so not to wake Peeta. Haymitch does have a soft side, we don't see it often but it's there.

"Free day then" Peeta yawns, making me jump a little. I hadn't realised that he was awake.

"Yeah, anything you want to do?"

He sits up and I laugh at his hair which was flat one side and sticking up one the other side. "Don't care, as long as I spend it with you."

We eat breakfast in bed, gorging on whatever we wanted, before showering together. We then grabbed a blanket, ordered more food and headed up to the roof for a picnic. Nobody bothered us all day which meant that we were able to relax in the other's company, laughing and sharing stories. I practice my new found skills by tying knots and making nets, teaching Peeta at the same time, before heading back down to my room and falling asleep together.

My prep team finds us curled up together, the next morning, which causes Octavia to burst into tears before she's reminded, by Venia, what Cinna had told them. After a soft kiss, Peeta slips out to be made up by his prep team and I'm left alone with mine.

The usual chatter has been suspended. In fact, there's little talk at all, other than to have me raise my chin or comment on a makeup technique. It's nearly lunch when I feel something dripping on my shoulder and turn to find Flavius, who's snipping away at my hair with silent tears running down his face. Venia gives him a look, and he gently sets the scissors on the table and leaves.

Then it's just Venia, whose skin is so pale her tattoos appear to be leaping off it. Almost rigid with determination, she does my hair and nails and makeup, fingers flying swiftly to compensate for her absent teammates. The whole time, she avoids my gaze. It's only when Cinna shows up to approve me and dismiss her that she takes my hands, looks me straight in the eye, and says, "We would all like you to know what a ... privilege it has been to make you look your best." Then she hastens from the room.

My prep team. My foolish, shallow, affectionate pets, with their obsessions with feathers and parties, nearly break my heart with their good-bye. It's certain from Venia's last words that we all know I won't be returning. Does the whole world know it? I wonder. I look at Cinna. He knows, certainly. But as he promised, there's no danger of tears from him.

"So, what am I wearing tonight?" I ask, eyeing the garment bag that holds my dress.

"President Snow put in the dress order himself," says Cinna. He unzips the bag, revealing one of the wedding dresses I wore for the photo shoot. Heavy white silk with a low neckline and tight waist and sleeves that fall from my wrists to the floor. And pearls. Everywhere pearls. Stitched into the dress and in ropes at my throat and forming the crown for the veil. "Even though they announced the Quarter Quell the night of the photo shoot, people Still voted for their favorite dress, and this was the winner. The president says you're to wear it tonight. Our objections were ignored."

I rub a bit of the silk between my fingers, trying to figure out President Snow's reasoning. I suppose since I was the greatest offender, my pain and loss and humiliation should be in the brightest spotlight. This, he thinks, will make that clear. It's so barbaric, the president turning my bridal gown into my shroud, that the blow strikes home, leaving me with a dull ache inside. "Well, it'd be a shame to waste such a pretty dress" is all I say.

Cinna helps me carefully into the gown. As it settles on my shoulders, they can't help giving a shrug of complaint. "Was it always this heavy?" I ask. I remember several of the dresses being dense, but this one feels like it weighs a ton.

"I had to make some slight alterations because of the lighting," says Cinna. I nod, but I can't see what that has to do with anything. He decks me out in the shoes and the pearl jewellery and the veil. Touches up my makeup. Has me walk.

"You're ravishing," he says. "Now, Katniss, because this bodice is so fitted, I don't want you raising your arms above your head. Well, not until you twirl, anyway."

"Will I be twirling again?" I ask, thinking of my dress last year.

"I'm sure Caesar will ask you. And if he doesn't, you suggest it yourself. Only not right away. Save it for your big finale," Cinna instructs me.

"You give me a signal so I know when," I say.

"All right. Any plans for your interview? I know Haymitch left you two to your own devices," he says.

"No, this year I'm just winging it. The funny thing is, I'm not nervous at all." And I'm not. However much President Snow may hate me, this Capitol audience is mine.

"Katniss, Haymitch told me about Peeta's plan for his interview; announcing the pregnancy?" I nod, showing him that I understood. Peeta was sticking to the plan of announcing our 'good news' during his interview, the reason we'd been trying hard to conceal it. "When you twirl, the dress will change and there will be nothing hiding your bump. I'm hoping that people don't notice it until Peeta's announcement."

I nod again before I feel my hands trembling. "I'm scared, Cinna" I admit "what if they do something to me afterwards?" I ask.

"They're sending you into the games" he reminds me "there's nothing more they can do that they can't do in the arena."

This should make me feel better but it doesn't. "It's going to die, isn't it?" I say, not particularly caring that I could die too.

Cinna pulls me into a hug "not if I can help it. I want both of you to live and so does everyone else. Have a little faith, Mockingjay." He smiles at me and kisses my forehead. "Come on, girl on fire, let's go show them what you're made of."


	8. Chapter 8

**Just to say thanks for the support so far and for the reviews!**

 **This chapter is mostly taken from the book but I have chopped and changed some parts. Chapter 9 will be more of my own writing.**

I couldn't keep my eyes off Peeta; he'd been dressed in an elegant tuxedo and white gloves. The counterpart to my dress, I assume. But he looked ravishing and all I wanted to do was tear the clothes off him; it took a great deal of effort to keep my hands to myself.

Peeta, knowing 'that look', frowns at me and, whilst everyone else was momentarily occupied, he raises his eyebrows and asks "hormones?" so quietly that only I could hear him.

The blush heated up my face and I couldn't even deny it. I nod.

"Well" he chuckles "something to look forward to later then. You look beautiful, by the way."

"Cinna did a wonderful job, didn't he?"

"Not going to lie" Peeta replies, touching the fabric of the dress before his hand slid down my arm to take hold of my hand and playing with the wedding ring he'd given me. "He did but, Katniss, you always look beautiful to me; this is just a different kind of beauty."

I smile, nodding. "Cinna told me that he adapted my dress to that, when I twirl, my bump won't be hidden anymore but he's hoping that the audience don't notice until you've made your announcement."

"Portia mentioned it" he says "just try and look…well, surprised, if you can."

"Surprise will be a long shot" I reply "but I can do nervous."

"Nervous is as good as any." He kisses me swiftly before we're herded into the lift.

The other tributes have already gathered offstage and are talking softly, but when Peeta and I arrive, they fall silent. I realize everyone's staring daggers at my wedding dress. Are they jealous of its beauty? The power it might have to manipulate the crowd?

Finally Finnick says, "I can't believe Cinna put you in that thing."

"He didn't have any choice. President Snow made him," I say, somewhat defensively. I won't let anyone criticize Cinna.

Cashmere tosses her flowing blond curls back and spits out, "Well, you look ridiculous!" She grabs her brother's hand and pulls him into place to lead our procession onto the stage. The other tributes begin to line up as well. I'm confused because, while they all are angry, some are giving us sympathetic pats on the shoulder, and Johanna Mason actually stops to straighten my pearl necklace.

"Make him pay for it, okay?" she says.

I nod, but I don't know what she means. Not until we're all sitting out onstage and Caesar Flickerman, hair and face highlighted in lavender this year, has done his opening spiel and the tributes begin their interviews. This is the first time I realize the depth of betrayal felt among the victors and the rage that accompanies it. But they are so smart, so wonderfully smart about how they play it, because it all comes back to reflect on the government and President Snow in particular. Not everyone. There are the old throwbacks, like Brutus and Enobaria, who are just here for another Games, and those too baffled or drugged or lost to join in on the attack. But there are enough victors who still have the wits and the nerve to come out fighting.

By the time I'm introduced, the audience is an absolute wreck. People have been weeping and collapsing and even calling for change. The sight of me in my white silk bridal gown practically causes a riot. No more me, no more star-crossed lovers living happily ever after, no more wedding. I can see even Caesar's professionalism showing some cracks as he tries to quiet them so I can speak, but my three minutes are ticking quickly away.

Finally there's a lull and he gets out, "So, Katniss, obviously this is a very emotional night for everyone. Is there anything you'd like to say?"

My voice trembles as I speak. "Only that I'm so sorry you won't get to be at my wedding ... but I'm glad you at least get to see me in my dress. Isn't it just ... the most beautiful thing?" I don't have to look at Cinna for a signal. I know this is the right time. I begin to twirl slowly, raising the sleeves of my heavy gown above my head.

When I hear the screams of the crowd, I think it's because I must look stunning. Then I notice something is rising up around me. Smoke. From fire. Not the flickery stuff I wore last year in the chariot, but something much more real that devours my dress. I begin to panic as the smoke thickens. Charred bits of black silk swirl into the air, and pearls clatter to the stage. Somehow I'm afraid to stop because my flesh doesn't seem to be burning and I know Cinna must be behind whatever is happening. So I keep spinning and spinning. For a split second I'm gasping, completely engulfed in the strange flames. Then all at once, the fire is gone. I slowly come to a stop, wondering if I'm naked and why Cinna has arranged to burn away my wedding dress.

But I'm not naked. I'm in a dress of the exact design of my wedding dress, only it's the colour of coal and made of tiny feathers. Wonderingly, I lift my long, flowing sleeves into the air, and that's when I see myself on the television screen. Clothed in black except for the white patches on my sleeves. Or should I say my wings.

Because Cinna has turned me into a mockingjay.

I'm still smouldering a little, so it's with a tentative hand that Caesar reaches out to touch my headpiece. The white has burned away, leaving a smooth, fitted veil of black that drapes into the neckline of the dress in the back. "Feathers," says Caesar. "You're like a bird."

"A mockingjay, I think," I say, giving my wings a small flap. "It's the bird on the pin I wear as a token." I have to resist the urge to use my hands to hide the bump which now felt glaringly obvious. I felt as though there was a massive sign pointing at my saying 'she's pregnant!' But it's not mentioned, thankfully Caesar is too preoccupied with my new mockingjay revelation.

A shadow of recognition flickers across Caesar's face, and I can tell he knows that the mockingjay isn't just my token. That it's come to symbolize so much more. That what will be seen as a flashy costume change in the Capitol is resonating in an entirely different way throughout the districts. But he makes the best of it.

"Well, hats off to your stylist. I don't think anyone can argue that that's not the most spectacular thing we've ever seen in an interview. Cinna, I think you better take a bow!" Caesar gestures for Cinna to rise. He does, and makes a small, gracious bow. And suddenly I am so afraid for him. What has he done? Something terribly dangerous. An act of rebellion in itself. And he's done it for me. I remember his words ...

"Don't worry. I always channel my emotions into my work. That way I don't hurt anyone but myself."

... and I'm afraid he has hurt himself beyond repair. The significance of my fiery transformation will not be lost on President Snow.

The audience, who's been stunned into silence, breaks into wild applause. I can barely hear the buzzer that indicates that my three minutes are up. Caesar thanks me and I go back to my seat, my dress now feeling lighter than air.

As I pass Peeta, who's headed for his interview, he doesn't meet my eyes. I take my seat carefully, but aside from the puffs of smoke here and there, I seem unharmed, so I turn my attention to him.

Caesar and Peeta have been a natural team since they first appeared together a year ago. Their easy give-and-take, comic timing, and ability to segue into heart-wrenching moments, like Peeta's confession of love for me, have made them a huge success with the audience. They effortlessly open with a few jokes about fires and feathers and overcooking poultry. But anyone can see that Peeta is preoccupied, so Caesar directs the conversation right into the subject that's on everyone's minds.

"So, Peeta, what was it like when, after all you've been through, you found out about the Quell?" asks Caesar.

"I was in shock. I mean, one minute I'm seeing Katniss looking so beautiful in all these wedding gowns, and the next ..." Peeta trails off.

"You realized there was never going to be a wedding?" asks Caesar gently.

Peeta pauses for a long moment, as if deciding something. He looks out at the spellbound audience, then at tin floor, then finally up at Caesar. "Caesar, do you think all our friends here can keep a secret?"

An uncomfortable laugh emanates from the audience. What can he mean? Keep a secret from who? Our whole world is watching.

"I feel quite certain of it," says Caesar.

"We're already married," says Peeta quietly. The crowd reacts in astonishment, and I have to bury my face in the folds of my skirt so they can't see my face.

"But ... how can that be?" asks Caesar.

"Oh, it's not an official marriage. We didn't go to the Justice Building or anything. But we have this marriage ritual in District Twelve. I don't know what it's like in the other districts. But there's this thing we do," says Peeta, and he briefly describes the toasting.

"Were your families there?" asks Caesar.

"No, we didn't tell anyone. Not even Haymitch. And Katniss's mother would never have approved. But you see, we knew if we were married in the Capitol, there wouldn't be a toasting. And neither of us really wanted to wait any longer. So one day, we just did it," Peeta says. "And to us, we're more married than any piece of paper or big party could make us."

"So this was before the Quell?" says Caesar.

"Of course before the Quell. I'm sure we'd never have done it after we knew," says Peeta, starting to get upset. "But who could've seen it coming? No one. We went through the Games, we were victors, everyone seemed so thrilled to see us together, and then out of nowhere - I mean, how could we anticipate a thing like that?"

"You couldn't, Peeta." Caesar puts an arm around his shoulders. "As you say, no one could've. But I have to confess, I'm glad you two had at least a few months of happiness together."

Enormous applause. As if encouraged, I look up from my feathers and let the audience see my tragic smile of thanks. The residual smoke from the feathers has made my eyes teary, which adds a very nice touch.

"I'm not glad," says Peeta. "I wish we had waited until the whole thing was done officially."

This takes even Caesar aback. "Surely even a brief time is better than no time?"

"Maybe I'd think that, too, Caesar," says Peeta bitterly, "if it weren't for the baby."

There. It's finally done. He gone and dropped a bomb that wipes out the efforts of every tribute who came before him. Well, maybe not. Maybe this year he has only lit the fuse on a bomb that the victors themselves have been building. Hoping someone would be able to detonate it. Perhaps thinking it would be me in my bridal gown. Not knowing how much I rely on Cinna's talents, whereas Peeta needs nothing more than his wits.

As the bomb explodes, it sends accusations of injustice and barbarism and cruelty flying out in every direction. Even the most Capitol-loving, Games-hungry, bloodthirsty person out there can't ignore, at least for a moment, how horrific the whole thing is.

I am pregnant. Yes, pregnant and desperate.

The audience can't absorb the news right away. It has to strike them and sink in and be confirmed by other voices before they begin to sound like a herd of wounded animals, moaning, shrieking, calling for help. And me? I know my face is projected in a tight close-up on the screen, but I don't make any effort to hide it. Because for a moment, even I am working through what Peeta has said. Isn't it the thing I dreaded most about the wedding, about the future - the loss of my children to the Games?

I momentarily glance up at my face, projected upon the big screens, to see a single tear dribble from my eye and down my face before more started to follow. I was unable to stem the tears and, for once, I was glad.

Caesar can't rein in the crowd again, not even when the buzzer sounds. Peeta nods his good-bye and comes back to his seat without any more conversation. I can see Caesar's lips moving, but the place is in total chaos and I can't hear a word. Only the blast of the anthem, cranked up so loud I can feel it vibrating through my bones, lets us know where we stand in the program. I automatically rise and, as I do, I sense Peeta reaching out for me. Tears run down his face as I take his hand and realise that he's just as aware of the probable outcome as I am but never wanted to discuss it because he knew I was stressed enough as it is.

I look back to the crowd, but the faces of Rue's mother and father swim before my eyes. Their sorrow. Their loss. I turn spontaneously to Chaff and offer my hand. I feel my fingers close around the stump that now completes his arm and hold fast.

And then it happens. Up and down the row, the victors begin to join hands. Some right away, like the morphlings, or Wiress and Beetee. Others unsure but caught up in the demands of those around them, like Brutus and Enobaria. By the time the anthem plays its final strains, all twenty-four of us stand in one unbroken line in what must be the first public show of unity among the districts since the Dark Days. You can see the realization of this as the screens begin to pop into blackness. It's too late, though. In the confusion they didn't cut us off in time. Everyone has seen.

There's disorder on the stage now, too, as the lights go out and we're left to stumble back into the Training Centre. I've lost hold of Chaff, but Peeta guides me into an elevator. Finnick and Johanna try to join us, but a harried Peacekeeper blocks their way and we shoot upward alone.

Somewhere, very far off, is a place called District 12, where my mother and sister and friends will have to deal with the fallout from this night. Just a brief hovercraft ride away is an arena where, tomorrow, Peeta and I and the other tributes will face our own form of punishment. But even if all of us meet terrible ends, something happened on that stage tonight that can't be undone. We victors staged our own uprising, and maybe, just maybe, the Capitol won't be able to contain this one.

We wait for the others to return, but when the elevator opens, only Haymitch appears. "It's madness out there. Everyone's been sent home and they've cancelled the recap of the interviews on television."

Peeta and I hurry to the window and try to make sense of the commotion far below us on the streets. "What are they saying?" Peeta asks. "Are they asking the president to stop the Games?"

"I don't think they know themselves what to ask. The whole situation is unprecedented. Even the idea of opposing the Capitol's agenda is a source of confusion for the people here," says Haymitch. "But there's no way Snow would cancel the Games. You know that, right?"

I do. Of course, he could never back down now. The only option left to him is to strike back, and strike back hard. "The others went home?" I ask.

"They were ordered to. I don't know how much luck they're having getting through the mob," says Haymitch.

"Then we'll never see Effie again," says Peeta. We didn't see her on the morning of the Games last year. "You'll give her our thanks."

"More than that. Really make it special. It's Effie, after all," I say. "Tell her how appreciative we are and how she was the best escort ever and tell her ... tell her we send our love."

For a while we just stand there in silence, delaying the inevitable. Then Haymitch says it. "I guess this is where we say our good-byes as well."

"Any last words of advice?" Peeta asks.

"Stay alive," Haymitch says gruffly. That's almost an old joke with us now. He gives us each a quick embrace, and I can tell it's all he can stand. "Go to bed. You need your rest."

I know I should say a whole bunch of things to Haymitch, but I can't think of anything he doesn't already know, really, and my throat is so tight I doubt anything would come out, anyway. So, once again, I let Peeta speak for us both.

"You take care, Haymitch," he says.

We cross the room, but in the doorway, Haymitch's voice stops us. "Katniss, when you're in the arena," he begins. Then he pauses. He's scowling in a way that makes me sure I've already disappointed him.

"What?" I ask defensively.

"You just remember who the enemy is," Haymitch tells me. "That's all. Now go on. Get out of here."


	9. Chapter 9

"I don't care if we have allies" Peeta tells me as I play with the necklace Effie had given him as his token. "As long as I'm with you. I want to protect both of you."

"I know" I whisper.

"You know" he sighs into the darkness "Haymitch made me promises too; I'm guessing that he lied to one of us."

I nod knowing that it would be pointless to deny it. "I told him that it was your turn; he saved me last time and now it's his turn to save you."

"But that was before the baby" Peeta replied "Katniss, I don't care what happens to me; I just want both of you to be safe."

"And you think that I could have this baby without you?" I ask him, firing up "you think that I'll be able to look at it and not see you? I _can't_ lose you, Peeta! I won't! I'll die before that happens!"

"Shh" he hushes "I'm not setting out to die, Katniss, I promise but as your husband and the baby's father, it's my job to protect you. Do you understand that? If I lose you, I lose both of you, but, if you survive, you only lose me."

" _Only_ " I scoff.

"They're not going to let us both leave the arena alive" he states

"But, Peeta" I sit up a little so that I can look him in the eye "it's _my_ fault it's played out this way. Surely you know that the card Snow read was rigged, right? _He_ wants _me_ dead; _I'm_ the reason the tributes were reaped from the existing pool of victors. It's _my_ fault Haymitch's friends are going to die; _my_ fault that we're both going back in and so, if you die, that'll be my fault too. I should have just eaten those damn berries" I growled.

Peeta sits up too and shakes his head "no, Katniss; you had no idea what would happen. You did it to save us; it was a heroic notion and not an act of defiance. It won't be your fault, it'll be his. It'll be theirs. Katniss, please let's not fight."

Even in the darkness I can see the tears pooling in his eyes and instantly feel bad. I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him close as I murmur in his ear. "I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I love you, Peeta, I'm just scared…for the three of us. I can handle losing the baby but not, you, Peeta, not you."

"I know" he chokes, his arms snaking around my waist before our lips meet and we spend the rest of the night in each other's arms, torn between sleeping and reconnecting.

Cinna and Portia arrive with the dawn, and I know Peeta will have to go. Tributes enter the arena alone. He gives me a light kiss. "See you soon," he says.

"See you soon," I answer.

Cinna, who will help dress me for the Games, accompanies me to the roof. I'm about to mount the ladder to the hovercraft when I remember. "I didn't say good-bye to Portia."

"I'll tell her," says Cinna.

The electric current freezes me in place on the ladder until the doctor injects the tracker into my left forearm. Now they will always be able to locate me in the arena. The hovercraft takes off, and I look out the windows until they black out. Cinna keeps pressing me to eat and, when that fails, to drink. I manage to keep sipping water, thinking of the days of dehydration that almost killed me last year. Thinking of how I will need my strength to keep Peeta alive. Despite our conversation, last night, I'm still going to try and save him.

When we reach the Launch Room at the arena, I shower. Cinna braids my hair down my back and helps me dress over simple undergarments. "I created this" Cinna told me, holding up a dark vest "it'll give the baby protection during the arena. It's the best out there and you're the only person who has access to it; it's very hi-tech stuff, Katniss."

"What does it do exactly?" I ask, taking it from him and examining it. It was light and felt almost like silk on the outside but the inside felt more like rubber.

"It'll offer added protection, as I said" he nods "the inside will feed nutrients into your body through enhanced chemicals; don't worry, the chemicals are safe. They're made from the same stuff pregnant capitol women have in tablet form. I wouldn't do anything to harm your baby." He looks at me, his face soft, before continuing "and the outside will help stop anything, like a sword or a knife, from penetrating your abdomen. It offers much more protection than the armoured suit Cato had in your last games but, remember, it's only your top half."

"Thank you" I whisper, not knowing what else there was to say.

This year's tribute outfit is a fitted blue jumpsuit, made of very sheer material, that zippers up the front. A six-inch-wide padded belt covered in shiny purple plastic. A pair of nylon shoes with rubber soles.

"What do you think?" I ask, holding the fabric out for Cinna to examine.

He frowns as he rubs the thin stuff between his fingers. "I don't know. It will offer little in the way of protection from cold or water."

"Sun?" I ask, picturing a burning sun over a barren desert.

"Possibly. If it's been treated," he says. "Oh, I almost forgot this." He takes my gold mockingjay pin from his pocket and fixes it to the jumpsuit I'd put on over the protective shirt.

"My dress was fantastic last night," I say. Fantastic and reckless. But Cinna must know that.

"I thought you might like it," he says with a tight smile.

We sit, as we did last year, holding hands until the voice tells me to prepare for the launch. He walks me over to the circular metal plate and zips up the neck of my jumpsuit securely. "Remember, girl on fire," he says, "I'm still betting on you." He kisses my forehead and rests a hand on my stomach for a moment before he steps back as the glass cylinder slides down around me.

"Thank you," I say, although he probably can't hear me. I lift my chin, holding my head high the way he always tells me to, and wait for the plate to rise. But it doesn't. And it still doesn't.

I look at Cinna, raising my eyebrows for an explanation. He just gives his head a slight shake, as perplexed as I am. Why are they delaying this?

Suddenly the door behind him bursts open and three Peacekeepers spring into the room. Two pin Cinna's arms behind him and cuff him while the third hits him in the temple with such force he's knocked to his knees. But they keep hitting him with metal-studded gloves, opening gashes on his face and body. I'm screaming my head off, banging on the unyielding glass, trying to reach him. The Peacekeepers ignore me completely as they drag Cinna's limp body from the room. All that's left are the smears of blood on the floor.

Sickened and terrified, I feel the plate begin to rise. I'm still leaning against the glass when the breeze catches my hair and I force myself to straighten up. Just in time, too, because the glass is retreating and I'm standing free in the arena. Something seems to be wrong with my vision. The ground is too bright and shiny and keeps undulating. I squint down at my feet and see that my metal plate is surrounded by blue waves that lap up over my boots. Slowly I raise my eyes and take in the water spreading out in every direction.

I can only form one clear thought.

This is no place for a girl on fire.

The sun impairs my vision as I look around for Peeta but I can't see him and, for a moment, I wondered whether they'd beating him up too before reminding myself that he's a tribute, they'd just wait and hurt him in the games.

When the gong sounds, I don't even hesitate before I dive to my left. It's a longer distance than I'm used to, and navigating the waves takes a little more skill than swimming across my quiet lake at home, but my body seems oddly light and I cut through the water effortlessly. Maybe it's the salt. I pull myself, dripping, onto the land strip and sprint down the sandy stretch for the Cornucopia. I can see no one else converging from my side, although the gold horn blocks a good portion of my view. I don't let the thought of adversaries slow me down, though. I'm thinking like a Career now, and the first thing I want is to get my hands on a weapon.

Last year, the supplies were spread out quite a distance around the Cornucopia, with the most valuable closest to the horn. But this year, the booty seems to be piled at the twenty-foot-high mouth. My eyes instantly home in on a golden bow just in arm's reach and I yank it free.

There's someone behind me. I'm alerted by, I don't know, a soft shift of sand or maybe just a change in the air currents. I pull an arrow from the sheath that's still wedged in the pile and arm my bow as I turn.

Finnick, glistening and gorgeous, stands a few yards away, with a trident poised to attack. A net dangles from his other hand. He's smiling a little, but the muscles in his upper body are rigid in anticipation. "You can swim, too," he says. "Where did you learn that in District Twelve?"

"We have a big bathtub," I answer.

"You must," he says. "You like the arena?"

"Not particularly. But you should. They must have built it especially for you," I say with an edge of bitterness. It seems like it, anyway, with all the water, when I bet only a handful of the victors can swim. And there was no pool in the Training Center, no chance to learn. Either you came in here a swimmer or you'd better be a really fast learner. Even participation in the initial bloodbath depends on being able to cover twenty yards of water. That gives District 4 an enormous advantage.

For a moment we're frozen, sizing each other up, our weapons, our skill. Then Finnick suddenly grins. "Lucky thing we're allies. Right?"

Sensing a trap, I'm about to let my arrow fly, hoping it finds his heart before the trident impales me, when he shifts his hand and something on his wrist catches the sunlight. A solid-gold bangle patterned with flames. The same one I remember on Haymitch's wrist the morning I began training. I briefly consider that Finnick could have stolen it to trick me, but somehow I know this isn't the case. Haymitch gave it to him. As a signal to me. An order, really. To trust Finnick.

Finnick then looks me up and down, his eyes widening when he notices my stomach. "So Peeta was telling the truth" he comments.

My face flushes as I reply "why would he lie?"

"People say things that aren't necessarily true in dire situations" he shrugs.

"Well it's very true" I snap back "and, right now, I'm hot, angry and need to find Peeta so-"

I can hear other footsteps approaching. "Duck!" Finnick commands in such a powerful voice, so different from his usual seductive purr, that I do. His trident goes whizzing over my head and there's a sickening sound of impact as it finds its target. The man from District 5, the drunk who threw up on the sword-fighting floor, sinks to his knees as Finnick frees the trident from his chest. "Don't trust One and Two," Finnick says, our previous conversation over…for now.

There's no time to question this. I work the sheath of arrows free. "Each take one side?" I say. He nods, and I dart around the pile. About four spokes apart, Enobaria and Gloss are just reaching land. Either they're slow swimmers or they thought the water might be laced with other dangers, which it might well be. Sometimes it's not good to consider too many scenarios. But now that they're on the sand, they'll be here in a matter of seconds.

"Anything useful?" I hear Finnick shout.

I quickly scan the pile on my side and find maces, swords, bows and arrows, tridents, knives, spears, axes, metallic objects I have no name for ... and nothing else.

"Weapons!" I call back. "Nothing but weapons!"

"Same here," he confirms. "Grab what you want and let's go!"

I shoot an arrow at Enobaria, who's gotten in too close for comfort, but she's expecting it and dives back into the water before it can find its mark. Gloss isn't quite as swift, and I sink an arrow into his calf as he plunges into the waves. I sling an extra bow and a second sheath of arrows over my body, slide two long knives and an awl into my belt, and meet up with Finnick at the front of the pile.

"Do something about that, would you?" he says. I see Brutus barrelling toward us. His belt is undone and he has it stretched between his hands as a kind of shield. I shoot at him and he manages to block the arrow with his belt before it can skewer his liver. Where it punctures the belt, a purple liquid spews forth, coating his face. As I reload, Brutus flattens on the ground, rolls the few feet to the water, and submerges. There's a clang of metal falling behind me. "Let's clear out," I say to Finnick.

This last altercation has given Enobaria and Gloss time to reach the Cornucopia. Brutus is within shooting distance and somewhere, certainly, Cashmere is nearby, too. These four classic Careers will no doubt have a prior alliance. If I had only my own safety to consider, I might be willing to take them on with Finnick by my side. But it's Peeta I'm thinking about. I spot him now, still stranded on his metal plate. I take off and Finnick follows without question, as if knowing this will be my next move. When I'm as close as I can get, I start removing knives from my belt, preparing to swim out to reach him and somehow bring him in.

Finnick drops a hand on my shoulder. "I'll get him."

Suspicion flickers up inside me. Could this all just be a ruse? For Finnick to win my trust and then swim out and drown Peeta? "I can," I insist.

But Finnick has dropped all his weapons to the ground. "Better not exert yourself. Not in your condition," he says, and reaches down and pats my abdomen.

"Fuck that!" I spit, my temper getting the better of me "it means nothing without Peeta!" I have to hold back tears as I realise just how true my words are.

Finnick frowns at me for a moment before his expression changes to what, pity? "I'll get him Katniss" he assures me "are you going to let me or are you going to shoot me?" He gestures to my half raised bow.

It takes me a moment or two before I calm down just enough to rationalise his offer. "Fine" I say, lowering my bow "go."

I watch carefully, ready to jump in if I need to, but Peeta allows Finnick to tow him back to me without protest. "Hello" he smiles, kissing me "we have allies!"

"So it seems" I nod, clutching his hand, unwilling to let go. "Stay with me?" I ask.

"Always" he smiles, kissing me again before Finnick interrupts us, clearing his throat.

"Sorry to break up the party" he says "but we ought to get out of here and I still need to get Mags."

I look around quickly and see the old woman paddling around opposite to where Peeta had been. "She's there" I point and we run over to her.

Finnick scoops her out of the water as though she weighed nothing before placing her on his back and setting off up one of the narrow pathways, toward the ominous looking jungle.

It's hot, muggy and unpleasant as we walk through the trees. Peeta takes the lead, cutting through the patches of dense vegetation with his long knife. I make Finnick go second because even though he's the most powerful, he's got his hands full with Mags. Besides, while he's a whiz with that trident, it's a weapon less suited to the jungle than my arrows. It doesn't take long, between the steep incline and the heat, to become short of breath. Peeta and I have been training intensely, though, and Finnick's such an amazing physical specimen that even with Mags over his shoulder, we climb rapidly for about a mile before he requests a rest. And then I think it's more for Mags's sake than his own.

So far there's been no sign of a freshwater stream or pond, and the saltwater's undrinkable. Again, I think of the last Games, where I nearly died of dehydration.

"Better find some soon," says Finnick. "We need to be undercover when the others come hunting us tonight."

We. Us. Hunting. All right, maybe killing Finnick would be a little premature. He's been helpful so far. He does have Haymitch's stamp of approval. And who knows what the night will hold? If worse comes to worst, I can always kill him in his sleep. So I let the moment pass. And so does Finnick.

The absence of water intensifies my thirst. I keep a sharp eye out as we continue our trek upward, but with no luck. After about another mile, I can see an end to the tree line and assume we're reaching the crest of the hill. "Maybe we'll have better luck on the other side. Find a spring or something."

But there is no other side. I know this before anyone else, even though I am farthest from the top. My eyes catch on a funny, rippling square hanging like a warped pane of glass in the air. At first I think it's the glare from the sun or the heat shimmering up off the ground. But it's fixed in space, not shifting when I move. And that's when I connect the square with Wiress and Beetee in the Training Center and realize what lies before us. My warning cry is just reaching my lips when Peeta's knife swings out to slash away some vines.

There's a sharp zapping sound. For an instant, the trees are gone and I see open space over a short stretch of bare earth. Then Peeta's flung back from the force field, bringing Finnick and Mags to the ground.

I rush over to where he lies, motionless in a web of vines. "Peeta?" There's a faint smell of singed hair. I call his name again, giving him a little shake, but he's unresponsive. My fingers fumble across his lips, where there's no warm breath although moments ago he was panting. I press my ear against his chest, to the spot where I always rest my head, where I know I will hear the strong and steady beat of his heart.

Instead, I find silence.


	10. Chapter 10

"Peeta!" I scream. I shake him harder, even resort to slapping his face, but it's no use. His heart has failed. I am slapping emptiness. "Peeta!"

Finnick props Mags against a tree and pushes me out of the way. "Let me." His fingers touch points at Peeta's neck, run over the bones in his ribs and spine. Then he pinches Peeta's nostrils shut.

"No!" I yell, hurling myself at Finnick, for surely he intends to make certain that Peeta's dead, to keep any hope of life from returning to him. Finnick's hand comes up and hits me so hard, so squarely in the chest that I go flying back into a nearby tree trunk. I'm stunned for a moment, by the pain, by trying to regain my wind, as I see Finnick close off Peeta's nose again. From where I sit, I pull an arrow, whip the notch into place, and am about to let it fly when I'm stopped by the sight of Finnick kissing Peeta. And it's so bizarre, even for Finnick, that I stay my hand. No, he's not kissing him. He's got Peeta's nose blocked off but his mouth tilted open, and he's blowing air into his lungs. I can see this, I can actually see Peeta's chest rising and falling. Then Finnick unzips the top of Peeta's jumpsuit and begins to pump the spot over his heart with the heels of his hands. Now that I've gotten through my shock, I understand what he's trying to do.

Once in a blue moon, I've seen my mother try something similar, but not often. If your heart fails in District 12, it's unlikely your family could get you to my mother in time, anyway. So her usual patients are burned or wounded or ill. Or starving, of course.

But Finnick's world is different. Whatever he's doing, he's done it before. There's a very set rhythm and method. And I find the arrow tip sinking to the ground as I lean in to watch, desperately, for some sign of success. Agonizing minutes drag past as my hopes diminish. Around the time that I'm deciding it's too late, that Peeta's dead, moved on, unreachable forever, he gives a small cough and Finnick sits back.

I leave my weapons in the dirt as I fling myself at him. "Peeta?" I say softly. I brush the damp blond strands of hair back from his forehead, find the pulse drumming against my fingers at his neck.

His lashes flutter open and his eyes meet mine. "Careful," he says weakly. "There's a force field up ahead."

I laugh, but there are tears running down my cheeks.

"Must be a lot stronger than the one on the Training Center roof," he says. "I'm all right, though. Just a little shaken."

"You were dead! Your heart stopped!" I burst out, before really considering if this is a good idea. I clap my hand over my mouth because I'm starting to make those awful choking sounds that happen when I sob.

"Well, it seems to be working now," he says. "It's all right, Katniss." I nod my head but the sounds aren't stopping.

"Katniss?" Now Peeta's worried about me, which adds to the insanity of it all.

"It's okay. It's just her hormones," says Finnick. "From the baby." I look up and see him, sitting back on his knees but still panting a bit from the climb and the heat and the effort of bringing Peeta back from the dead.

"No. It's not - " I get out, but I'm cut off by an even more hysterical round of sobbing that seems only to confirm what Finnick said about the baby. He meets my eyes and I glare at him through my tears. It's stupid, I know, that his efforts make me so vexed. All I wanted was to keep Peeta alive, and I couldn't and Finnick could, and I should be nothing but grateful. And I am. But I am also furious because it means that I will never stop owing Finnick Odair. Ever. So how can I kill him in his sleep?

I expect to see a smug or sarcastic expression on his face, but his look is strangely quizzical. He glances between Peeta and me, as if trying to figure something out, then gives his head a slight shake as if to clear it. "How are you?" he asks Peeta. "Do you think you can move on?"

"No, he has to rest," I say. My nose is running like crazy and I don't even have a shred of fabric to use as a handkerchief. Mags rips off a handful of hanging moss from a tree limb and gives it to me. I'm too much of a mess to even question it. I blow my nose loudly and mop the tears off my face. It's nice, the moss. Absorbent and surprisingly soft.

Peeta nods but looks at me in concern "are you ok to keep going?" He asks, his grip tightening on my hand.

I nod mutely, swiping the tears from my face and sniff loudly "yes."

"Katniss, you knew that there was a force field there, didn't you?" Finnick asks.

"Yeah, it's" I pause because I didn't want to announce to the Gamemakers that there was a flaw or get Beetee and Wiress into trouble "my ear," I finally finish "I can hear more out of it now than what I could before."

"The one the Capitol reconstructed?" Peeta asks, sounding amazed but I knew he wasn't convinced.

I nod "yeah."

"Then you can go first" Finnick instructs "keep anyone else from frying."

I was happy to take the lead if it meant that I could keep Peeta from accidently attacking the force field again but, just to be on the safe side, I cut down a branch of hard nuts and toss them in the general direction. It's a good thing I do too because I'm missing more patches of the force field more often than I'm spotting them.

Then it got me thinking, we weren't walking in a straight line; the path I was taking was curved due to the force field. "Hang on" I say, looking around for a tree and finding a nice tall one with thick branches. I went over to it but, before I could begin the climb, Peeta's hand was on my shoulder.

"I don't want you climbing trees, Katniss" he tells me gently "I don't want you falling."

"It's ok" I assure him "I won't fall, trust me?"

He stares at me for a moment before nodding and stepping back. I climb up as high as I can. From this precarious vantage point, I can see the shape of the whole arena for the first time. A perfect circle. With a perfect wheel in the middle. The sky above the circumference of the jungle is tinged a uniform pink. And I think I can make out one or two of those wavy squares, chinks in the armor, Wiress and Beetee called them, because they reveal what was meant to be hidden and are therefore a weakness. Just to make absolutely sure, I shoot an arrow into the empty space above the tree line. There's a spurt of light, a flash of real blue sky, and the arrow's thrown back into the jungle. I climb down to give the others the bad news.

"The force field has us trapped in a circle. A dome, really. I don't know how high it goes. There's the Cornucopia, the sea, and then the jungle all around. Very exact. Very symmetrical. And not very large," I say.

"Any sign of water?" Asks Finnick.

"Only the water where we started" I tell him, feeling the dryness in my mouth and wishing that Haymitch would send us something.

"Ok" he sighs "let's keep going for a little longer, see if we can find water."

We head down a little, away from the force field, before continuing. I lag behind, letting Finnick and Mags take the lead, so that I can talk to Peeta. "How are you feeling?"

"Smoked" he replies, a shadow of a grin playing around his lips. "Seriously, Katniss," he says when I raise my eyebrows at him "I'm ok, just a little tired. I'll be fine. How are you?"

I couldn't exactly announce to Panem that I was still fighting back the hysteria that had overtaken me earlier so I just shrugged and said "worried, tired, thirsty and I feel a bit sick but I'll be fine once we eat."

"Poor you" he sighs mournfully "I wish I could help you for a while but a baby is not an easy thing to transfer."

Smiling a little at his words, I shake my head "it just feels unnecessary."

"What does?"

"The help people are trying to give me" I say "the fact that you're worried, that Cinna and Haymitch were keeping a closer eye on me, making sure that the baby's ok. I just-"

"Katniss" Peeta stops and grips my arms, he looks serious "I am doing what I can to send both of you home. I don't care if that sounds counterproductive, I will die before I stop protecting you. I love you both more than you could ever believe and I'm not losing you now."

I sigh, knowing that arguing with him was futile, and nod just as Finnick calls out "hey, are you coming or what?!"

"Katniss" he stops me again, moving his hands from my arms and taking my hand "we can trust Finnick."

"He saved your life" I tell him, my eyes watering at the memory "I'm in debt to him now."

We stop and make camp at around mid-afternoon when it becomes clear that three out of the four of us need to rest. Finnick, however, still looks good and strong despite the sheen of sweat on his forehead. "I'm going to go and hunt around for water" I announce, needing to get away from the concerned glances that were being thrown my way. "Don't worry" I tell Peeta when he offers to come with me "I won't go far and I won't be long."

I move as stealthily as I can through the trees, ensuring to stay away from the force field, but my body was slowly beginning to shut down. I didn't think that it would begin so quickly but, being pregnant, makes things ten times harder and it seems that I start dehydrating quicker as well.

As I slid down a tree trunk, I wished that Cinna had created a way for me to give the baby water without physically having to drink it. I place my hands on my stomach and rub my bump, worrying about the fact that I hadn't felt the baby move since last night. I then try to tell myself that losing the baby won't be a bad thing, something that I'd thought since the beginning, but I don't believe it any more. Losing the baby will hurt me but losing Peeta would kill me and, with that in mind, I become aware of the wildlife; managing to shoot a rat looking creature before heading back to camp.

When I arrive, I see the others have transformed the place. Mags and Finnick have created a hut of sorts out of the grass mats, open on one side but with three walls, a floor, and a roof. Mags has also plaited several bowls that Peeta has filled with roasted nuts. Their faces turn to me hopefully, but I give my head a shake. "No. No water. It's out there, though. He knew where it was," I say, hoisting the rodent up for all to see. "He'd been drinking recently when I shot him out of a tree, but I couldn't find his source. I swear, I covered every inch of ground in a thirty-yard radius."

"Is it safe to eat?" Peeta asks, nodding at the creatures I was holding

"I'd say so, I just need to skin and gut him" I reply

Finnick takes my kill from me "I'll sort them out" he says "you need to get in the shade, you look terrible."

Not that I like to dwell on it but I felt horrible; I had a monstrous headache coming on, my back aches and my mouth feels so dry that I'm sure that my tongue has begun to crack. "Come on" Peeta guides me over to the hut and sits me down in the doorway.

"He's not moving, Peeta" I mutter.

"He?" He frowns

I shrug "I don't like calling him an it."

"Maybe we should name him instead?" Peeta suggests but I shake my head. Naming him would be hoping for more than we're going to get. He sighs, sitting down beside me and putting a hand on my tummy. "He's probably just sleeping, Katniss" he tells me gently "you're tired so he's bound to be. You should try and sleep too."

"I want to eat first" I tell him and he nods.

"I'll see how Finnick's doing with the rat."

"It'll need cooking, Peeta" I call after him, hoping that Finnick had the sense not to eat the thing raw.

I doze for a little while; sitting somewhere between alertness and sleep. Until Peeta returns with the meat, which was blackened on the outside, skewered on a stick and a handful of the nuts. "I used the force field" he tells me "we didn't think it was a good idea to make a fire so-" he shrugs "it's not burned all the way through."

I popped one into my mouth and chewed. The meat didn't taste much different to wild dog and the burned outside gave it a better flavour. "You did a good job" I tell him before wolfing down the rest.

Peeta nods and stares at me for a beat before squatting down beside me. "Katniss, you've got to take it easy. You can't just run off hunting or climbing trees like you could before; you've got to remember that you're not only looking after yourself now."

"I can hunt" I scowl

"You can" he nods "but not when we've been trekking in a hot rainforest for hours. You might have given yourself heat stroke and that's not good when we don't even have any water right now!"

It felt like he was telling me off and I guess that he had cause to but I didn't like it. "I know what my body can handle, Peeta" I say, the heat had already made me grouchy but, along with the worry of an unmoving baby and lack of water, I was feeling like I could explode at any second. Peeta was walking a fine line that he didn't even know was there.

He backs off a little, sensing my bad mood. "I know" he tells me "I'm just asking, as your concerned husband, to be more careful." He offers me a little smile before leaving me alone to simmer.

I watch the sun set as I slowly eat the roasted nuts, the bowl resting on my stomach. Peeta had been over a couple more times to check on me, which I appreciated, but also kept away for longer than I know he would have liked, which I also appreciated; I didn't want to be snapping at him when he was being nothing but caring, especially as he'd almost died today.

The thought of his hollow chest overwhelms me again and, in that instant, I felt something. I cry out in surprise, sending the bowl of nuts to the floor.

"Katniss?!" Peeta and Finnick were by me in a few mere seconds. "What is it?" Peeta asks looking around as he frantically tried to find what was wrong.

"He's kicking" I told them. I'd felt him kick before but never like this, I could see my stomach moving in the area the baby was attacking and it was captivatingly odd.

"The baby?" Peeta asks stupidly

"No" I roll my eyes "Finnick; of course the baby! Here" I grab Peeta's hand, almost sending him face first into my lap before he managed to steady himself, and placed it over the area.

His eyes widened and he shuffled closer so that he wasn't stretching. He'd never felt him kick before. "Wow" he mutters to himself and we stay like that for a while until Finnick makes himself known again.

"Well" he coughs "as fun as this is to watch…it's weird so I'll just-" and he leaves.

"See" Peeta tells me, ignoring Finnick's retreating steps "there was no need to worry, he was just sleeping."

"Think we have Finnick convinced?" I ask, amused.

"Without a doubt" he smiles, bending down and kissing my abdomen.

Finnick re-joins us with Mags, a little while later, sitting along the edge of the hut as we stare up at the dark sky and wait.

The sky brightens when the seal of the Capitol appears as if floating in space. As I listen to the strains of the anthem I think, It will be harder for Finnick and Mags. But it turns out to be plenty hard for me as well. Seeing the faces of the eight dead victors projected into the sky.

The man from District 5, the one Finnick took out with his trident, is the first to appear. That means that all the tributes in 1 through 4 are alive - the four Careers, Beetee and Wiress, and, of course, Mags and Finnick. The man from District 5 is followed by the male morphling from 6, Cecelia and Woof from 8, both from 9, the woman from 10, and Seeder from 11. The Capitol seal is back with a final bit of music and then the sky goes dark except for the moon.

No one speaks. I can't pretend I knew any of them well. But I'm thinking of those three kids hanging on to Cecelia when they took her away. Seeder's kindness to me at our meeting. Even the thought of the glazed-eyed morphling painting my cheeks with yellow flowers gives me a pang. All dead. All gone.

I don't know how long we might have sat here if it weren't for the arrival of the silver parachute, which glides down through the foliage to land before us. No one reaches for it.

"Whose is it, do you think?" I say finally.

"No telling," says Finnick. "Why don't we let Peeta claim it, since he died today?"

Peeta unwraps the package and a metal thing falls out. He holds it up, examining it. "Any idea what it is?" He asks us but none of us have any idea though I have this niggling feeling in the back of my mind that I'd seen something like it before but I just couldn't place it.

The others don't spend long puzzling over it so I was left glaring at the object, trying to place it. Until a memory pops into my head; Yes, I've seen one of these before. On a cold, windy day long ago, when I was out in the woods with my father. Inserted snugly into a hole drilled in the side of a maple. A pathway for the sap to follow as it flowed into our bucket. Maple syrup could make even our dull bread a treat. After my father died, I didn't know what happened to the handful of spiles he had. Hidden out in the woods somewhere, probably. Never to be found.

"It's a spile" I announce, grabbing it and trying to get to my feet. Finnick, smirking a little, ends up gripping my arms and pulling my up like an infant but I was too excited to even think about being annoyed with him. "Haymitch has sent us means to get water!" I smile as I think about the cool wet stuff on my tongue before turning to see that the others still looked confused. "It's like a tap" I try to explain "you drive it into the trunk of a tree. People use it to get sap."

"But we want water, not sap" Finnick tells me.

"I know" I roll my eyes "I'm guessing that the trees have water in them."

Peeta takes the spile from me as he says "well let's go and find out."


	11. Chapter 11

**I'm trying not to copy too much from the book, hence why I've changed some parts, but I've had to in some places. This goes for past, present and future chapters!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

I'd been right; when we finally managed to get the spile into the trunk of a tree, water began to trickle out of it.

Now that everyone was re-hydrated, exhaustion began to take over. I send Peeta to bed, telling him that I was well rested enough to keep watch. He tries to argue but he loses and ducks into the hut; he's asleep within minutes. "You should really stop lying to him" Finnick says.

"I needed him to get some rest" I state "but I knew that he wouldn't go if he thought that he was putting his needs before mine."

Finnick nods "I'll take first watch, Katniss, you should rest up too." I consider this for a moment before nodding and lie down beside Peeta, telling Finnick to wake me if he gets tired. Instead I find myself jarred from sleep a few hours later by what seems to be the tolling of a bell. Bong! Bong! It's not exactly like the one they ring in the Justice Building on New Year's but close enough for me to recognize it. Peeta and Mags sleep through it, but Finnick has the same look of attentiveness I feel. The tolling stops.

"I counted twelve," he says.

I nod. Twelve. What does that signify? One ring for each district? Maybe. But why? "Mean anything, do you think?"

"No idea," he says.

We wait for further instructions, maybe a message from Claudius Templesmith. An invitation to a feast. The only thing of note appears in the distance. A dazzling bolt of electricity strikes a towering tree and then a lightning storm begins. I guess it's an indication of rain, of a water source for those who don't have mentors as smart as Haymitch.

"Go to sleep, Finnick. It's my turn to watch, anyway," I say.

He ducks into the hut without question and is asleep before his head even hits the ground.

I sit, listening to the three sleeping tributes behind me. My bow is poised and ready but I'm not thinking about defence. The baby seems to be making up for his lack of movement as is not dancing within me again. I don't resent the feeling but I can't say that it's the most comfortable thing I've ever experienced and I'm about to wake Finnick, so that I could relieve myself, when something catches my eye.

I see the fog sliding softly in from the direction of the recent downpour. Just a reaction. Cool rain on the steaming ground, I think. It continues to approach at a steady pace. Tendrils reach forward and then curl like fingers, as if they are pulling the rest behind them. As I watch, I feel the hairs on my neck begin to rise. Something's wrong with this fog. The progression of the front line is too uniform to be natural. And if it's not natural ...

A sickeningly sweet odour begins to invade my nostrils and I reach for the others, shouting for them to wake up.

In the few seconds it takes to rouse them, I begin to blister.

I don't need to explain before Finnick has Mags on his back and is running away from it; Peeta, in his sleepy state, is a little slower and keeps tripping over vines. "Try putting your feet where I put mine" I suggest, staying as calm as I can with the fog steadily approaching.

This works but he's still slow and clumsy; it's not his fault, I know that it's not. It's his prosthetic leg; because he's not in full control over it, it's harder to run.

"Come on, Peeta" I plead desperately.

We seem to move a little faster, but never enough to afford a rest, and the mist continues to lap at our heels. Droplets spring free of the body of vapour. They burn, but not like fire. Less a sense of heat and more of intense pain as the chemicals find our flesh, cling to it, and burrow down through the layers of skin. Our jumpsuits are no help at all. We may as well be dressed in tissue paper, for all the protection they give.

Finnick, who bounded off initially, stops when he realizes we're having problems. But this is not a thing you can fight, only evade. He shouts encouragement, trying to move us along, and the sound of his voice acts as a guide, though little more.

Peeta's artificial leg catches in a knot of creepers and he sprawls forward before I can catch him. As I help him up, I become aware of something scarier than the blisters, more debilitating than the burns. The left side of his face has sagged, as if every muscle in it has died. The lid droops, almost concealing his eye. His mouth twists in an odd angle toward the ground. "Peeta - " I begin. And that's when I feel the spasms run up my arm.

Whatever chemical laces the fog does more than burn - it targets our nerves. A whole new kind of fear shoots through me and I yank Peeta forward, which only causes him to stumble again. By the time I get him to his feet, both of my arms are twitching uncontrollably. The fog has moved in on us, the body of it less than a yard away. Something is wrong with Peeta's legs; he's trying to walk but they move in a spastic, puppetlike fashion.

I feel him lurch forward and realize Finnick has come back for us and is hauling Peeta along. I wedge my shoulder, which still seems under my control, under Peeta's arm and do my best to keep up with Finnick's rapid pace. We put about ten yards between us and the fog when Finnick stops.

"It's no good. I'll have to carry him. Can you take Mags?" he asks me.

I agree but am doubtful. Mags isn't heavy but, with my arms in spasm, I don't know if I can hold her for long and, as it turns out, I can't. It's not her fault that I fall and stumble my way through the trees but I can tell by her face that she knows that I can't hold her.

"Finnick!" I pant "I can't carry her, can you take them both?"

He shakes his head; his arms are betraying him too. "No, I can't take them both."

At his words, Mags shuffles over to him, plants a kiss on his lips, before turning back around and walking straight into the fog. The canon sounds a moment later and we all know that she's gone.

My face seems frozen in shock. Why did she do that? But there's no time to ask because the fog is still coming at us and I follow Finnick, who'd turned away as soon as the canon had sounded; we were moving at a diagonal, away from the fog but toward the beach.

I follow Finnick until he collapses on the ground, Peeta still on top of him. I seem to have no ability to stop my own forward motion and simply propel myself onward until I trip over their prone bodies, just one more on the heap. This is where and how and when we all die, I think. But the thought is abstract and far less alarming than the current agonies of my body. I hear Finnick groan and manage to drag myself off the others. Now I can see the wall of fog, which has taken on a pearly white quality. Maybe it's my eyes playing tricks, or the moonlight, but the fog seems to be transforming. Yes, it's becoming thicker, as if it has pressed up against a glass window and is being forced to condense. I squint harder and realize the fingers no longer protrude from it. In fact, it has stopped moving forward entirely. Like other horrors I have witnessed in the arena, it has reached the end of its territory. Either that or the Gamemakers have decided not to kill us just yet.

"It's stopped," I try to say, but only an awful croaking sound comes from my swollen mouth. "It's stopped," I say again, and this time I must be clearer, because both Peeta and Finnick turn their heads to the fog. It begins to rise upward now, as if being slowly vacuumed into the sky. We watch until it has all been sucked away and not the slightest wisp remains.

Peeta rolls off Finnick, who turns over onto his back. We lie there gasping, twitching, our minds and bodies invaded by the poison. After a few minutes pass, Peeta vaguely gestures upward. "Mon-hees." I look up and spot a pair of what I guess are monkeys. I have never seen a live monkey - there's nothing like that in our woods at home. But I must have seen a picture, or one in the Games, because when I see the creatures, the same word comes to my mind. I think these have orange fur, although it's hard to tell, and are about half the size of a full-grown human. I take the monkeys for a good sign. Surely they would not hang around if the air was deadly. For a while, we quietly observe one another, humans and monkeys. Then Peeta struggles to his knees and crawls down the slope. We all crawl, since walking now seems as remarkable a feat as flying; we crawl until the vines turn to a narrow strip of sandy beach and the warm water that surrounds the Cornucopia laps our faces. I jerk back as if I've touched an open flame.

The salt water, despite how painful it was, helped and, after immersing and purging myself, the pain receded and my body was within my control again. Peeta does the same and, when he's done, we help each other out of our jumpsuits; they were ruined beyond repair and now completely useless.

"What's this?" He asks, gesturing at the top Cinna had made for me.

I stare down at it to find that it was still like new and smiled. Of course Cinna's clothes would be of far more use to me than what the Gamemakers provide. "Cinna made it for me to help protect the baby."

"That was nice of him" Peeta comments "at least you know it works."

"I had no doubt that it would" I say before turning to glance over at Finnick who was still on the sand. "I think we'd better help him."

I explain everything I'm doing to Finnick as I do it, I tell him that it'll hurt but it will be better after he's purged. I do this because I don't want him to think that we're trying to kill him and fight back, drowning one of us or something.

"Just need to do your face now" Peeta tells him gently "it's the worst part but I promise it feels better afterwards."

The water seems to revive Finnick in a way it couldn't for Peeta or myself and I watch him as he swims gracefully around, continuing to purge himself.

"I'm going to tap for water" Peeta tells me "I'll bring you some."

"Don't do that," I say. Finnick seems to have the lung capacity of a sea creature because he can stay under there for a lot longer than I can.

"What? Come up or stay under?" he says.

"Either. Neither. Whatever. Just soak in the water and behave," I say. "Or if you feel this good, let's go help Peeta."

In just the short time it takes to cross to the edge of the jungle, I become aware of the change. Put it down to years of hunting, or maybe my reconstructed ear does work a little better than anyone intended. But I sense the mass of warm bodies poised above us. They don't need to chatter or scream. The mere breathing of so many is enough.

I look up and see that we're surrounded by monkeys and my mind instantly goes to Peeta who's within the trees, unprotected and unaware of the threat.

We get to him before the monkeys do but then we're running again as the creatures attack us.

"What the hell are they trying to do?!" Finnick pants as he swipes as the animals with his trident.

"I thought it was obvious" I reply "they're trying to kill us."

Things change, however, when one of the mutts lunge at Peeta but it doesn't hit him. Instead, the female morphling seems to appear out of nowhere, throwing herself in front of Peeta. The monkey bites her neck, delivering a fatal wound, before Peeta could stab it with his knife.

Then it stops as quickly as it started and the monkeys disappear back from where they came, leaving the dead ones as a reminder to us that the attack actually happened.


	12. Chapter 12

Peeta carries the Morphling back to the beach where she lies on the sand, fighting for breath.

I want to move away from her; I want to run, as I would have done if she'd been brought to my mother in district twelve, but I couldn't. She grips my wrist so tight that I can't shake her off, even if I'd been heartless enough to do so. I look to Peeta for help and, of course, he comes to the rescue.

He talks to her about his paintings, about colours and patterns and she listens intently, drawing on her chest using the free flowing blood. He continues talking to her until she breathes her last breath and is still. Her grip slackens and I reclaim my hand.

The way Peeta handled her death was mystifying, it reminded me of Rue, but it made me wonder how someone as kind and selfless as he is landed with someone like me. Someone cold and distant and selfish. If it had been up to me, I'd have just stared at the woman until she'd died, not knowing what to do or say. Not nice for either of us.

We watch as she floats away on the water and continue watching until the hovercraft appears. When she's finally gone, I turn away from the water to see Finnick walking toward us with his arms full of my arrows. "Thought you might need these" he says, passing them over to me.

"Thanks" I tell him before wading into the water the wash the blood from them. By the time I return, the bodies has disappeared. "Where did they go?"

"Don't know" Finnick shrugged "the vines shifted and they were gone."

Later on, we go back to the tree Peeta had been trying to tap and fill up a couple of baskets with water before taking it back to the beach. Where Finnick offered to take the night watch so that Peeta and I could rest; neither of us argued. We knew that he needed time to grieve Mags.

The next time I open my eyes it's gone midmorning. Above me, I notice, is a woven grass mat. Finnick must have spent the time making himself useful.

I sit up and see that Peeta is still out so I get up without waking him and find Finnick cracking open shellfish, dumping the contents into one of three woven bowls. The other two held water. "They're better fresh" Finnick says as he puts one in his mouth.

My stomach begins to growl at the smell of food and I reach for one. The sight of my fingernails, caked with blood, stops me. I've been scratching my skin raw in my sleep.

"You know, if you scratch you'll bring on infection," says Finnick.

"That's what I've heard," I say. I go into the saltwater and wash off the blood, trying to decide which I hate more, pain or itching. Fed up, I stomp back onto the beach, turn my face upward, and snap, "Hey, Haymitch, if you're not too drunk, we could use a little something for our skin."

It's almost funny how quickly the parachute appears above me. I reach up and the tube lands squarely in my openhand. "About time," I say, but I can't keep the scowl on my face. Haymitch. What I wouldn't give for five minutes of conversation with him.

I plunk down on the sand next to Finnick and screw the lid off the tube. Inside is a thick, dark ointment with a pungent smell, a combination of tar and pine needles. I wrinkle my nose as I squeeze a glob of the medicine onto my palm and begin to massage it into my leg. A sound of pleasure slips out of my mouth as the stuff eradicates my itching. It also stains my scabby skin a ghastly gray-green. As I start on the second leg I toss the tube to Finnick, who eyes me doubtfully.

"It's like you're decomposing," says Finnick. But I guess the itching wins out, because after a minute Finnick begins to treat his own skin, too. Really, the combination of the scabs and the ointment looks hideous. I can't help enjoying his distress.

"Poor Finnick. Is this the first time in your life you haven't looked pretty?" I say.

We wake up Peeta and help him apply the ointment. His face, after experiencing the relief, was one that made me laugh. "What?" He asks.

I just shake my head knowing that I couldn't say what I was thinking without embarrassing the both of us. "I'll tell you later."

We had to move a little further from the beach after a big wave all but floods most of the beach. As we're moving, a canon fires and we look up, just in time, to see the hovercraft take them away. "I wonder who that was" I mutter, rescuing one of our grass bowls before it was swept out.

"What's that?" Peeta suddenly asks as we see three figures come out of the jungle. It looked as though they'd been dipped in paint or something; one figure looked as though it was towing the one of the others and the third figure seemed to be disorientated, walking in circles. "Mutts?"

We watch the figures for a moment before we see one push the one it had been dragging to the floor. "Johanna!" Finnick calls before running over to them, shouting her name again.

Peeta looks at me with raised eyebrows "shall we?"

"Well we can't just leave him" I sigh before setting off, at a slow jog, after Finnick.

As we move in closer, I see her companions, and confusion sets in. That's Beetee on the ground on his back and Wiress who's regained her feet to continue making loops. "She's got Wiress and Beetee."

"Nuts and Volts?" says Peeta, equally puzzled. "I've got to hear how this happened."

When we reach them, Johanna's gesturing toward the jungle and talking very fast to Finnick. "We thought it was rain, you know, because of the lightning, and we were all so thirsty. But when it started coming down, it turned out to be blood. Thick, hot blood. You couldn't see, you couldn't speak without getting a mouthful. We just staggered around, trying to get out of it. That's when Blight hit the force field."

"I'm sorry, Johanna," says Finnick. It takes a moment to place Blight. I think he was Johanna's male counterpart from District 7, but I hardly remember seeing him. Come to think of it, I don't even think he showed up for training.

"Yeah, well, he wasn't much, but he was from home," she says. "And he left me alone with these two." She nudges Beetee, who's barely conscious, with her shoe. "He got a knife in the back at the Cornucopia. And her - "

We all look over at Wiress, who's circling around, coated in dried blood, and murmuring, "Tick, tock. Tick, tock."

"Yeah, we know. Tick, tock. Nuts is in shock," says Johanna. This seems to draw Wiress in her direction and she careens into Johanna, who harshly shoves her to the beach. "Just stay down, will you?"

"Lay off her," I snap.

Johanna narrows her brown eyes at me in hatred. "Lay off her?" she hisses. She steps forward before I can react and slaps me so hard I see stars. "Who do you think got them out of that bleeding jungle for you? You - " Finnick tosses her writhing body over his shoulder and carries her out into the water and repeatedly dunks her while she screams a lot of really insulting things at me. But I don't shoot. Because she's with Finnick and because of what she said, about getting them for me.

"What did she mean? She got them for me?" I ask Peeta.

"I don't know. You did want them originally," he reminds me.

"Yeah, I did. Originally." But that answers nothing. I look down at Beetee's inert body. "But I won't have them long unless we do something."

Peeta takes charge of Beetee whilst I help Wiress wash up. I wash her clothes out and put them on a rock to dry before helping Peeta with Beetee.

By the time I've rinsed out Beetee's jumpsuit, a shiny clean Johanna and peeling Finnick have joined us. For a while, Johanna gulps water and stuffs herself with shellfish while I try to coax something into Wiress. Finnick tells about the fog and the monkeys in a detached, almost clinical voice, avoiding the most important detail of the story.

Everybody offers to guard while the others rest, but in the end, it's Johanna and I who stay up. Me because I'm really rested, she because she simply refuses to lie down. The two of us sit in silence on the beach until the others have gone to sleep.

Johanna glances over at Finnick, to be sure, then turns to me. "How'd you lose Mags?"

"In the fog. Finnick had Peeta. I had Mags for a while. Then I couldn't lift her. Finnick said he couldn't take them both. She kissed him and walked right into the poison," I say, the sacrifice still baffling.

"She was Finnick's mentor, you know," Johanna says accusingly.

"No, I didn't," I say.

"She was half his family," she says a few moments later, but there's less venom behind it.

We watch the water lap up over the undergarments. "So what were you doing with Nuts and Volts?" I ask.

"I told you - I got them for you. Haymitch said if we were to be allies I had to bring them to you," says Johanna. "That's what you told him, right?"

No, I think. But I nod my head in assent. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"I hope so." She gives me a look filled with loathing, like I'm the biggest drag possible on her life. I wonder if this is what it's like to have an older sister who really hates you. "So, did Cinna actually make you a belly to sell your lie or what?"

I frown, confused for a moment, before my hand automatically goes to my stomach; the baby was still kicking up a storm and I found that rubbing my abdomen helped a little. "What makes you think Peeta was lying?" I ask, thinking back to what Finnick had said. ' _People say things that aren't necessarily true in dire situations_ '.

Johanna stares at my hand which was still massaging comforting circles around my stomach. "Like the whole love thing, it was to keep you alive, right?" She finally says, not sounding quite as sure as she had been a moment ago. "What?" She asks when she sees my face "I don't care, we're all going to die in here. May as well stop lying."

"I guess" I say "but no to both; I _do_ love Peeta, everything he told Caesar in his interview was true." She looked a little surprised, if not still a little unconvinced. "He's kicking" I tell her "if you don't believe me, you're welcome to feel."

I watch her for a moment as she stares at my stomach. She doesn't strike me as a touchy feely kind of person but I could tell she was battling with herself over whether or not she should take me up on my offer. Not that she needed to touch it to see, you could clearly see the spot going up and down in time with the kicks but, just as I thought she'd decline my offer, her hand presses down on my stomach, over the spot I'd gestured at. "Yeah, that's weird" she tells me, whipping her hand away after just a few seconds.

"Tell me about it" I sigh. "I complain once that I haven't felt him move since the night before the games start and then he starts booting me relentlessly. It's very uncomfortable." I feel like sulking, crying or just throwing myself into the water where I could just float there without having to worry about anything but I didn't.

"Cry me a river" she mutters as Wiress starts tick-tocking again. "Nope, can't do it" she states, getting up "you and Nuts can guard together, I'm going to sleep."

I guide Wiress in front of me and lay her down, rubbing her arm to try and soothe her.

"Tick, tock," Wiress says, surfacing to consciousness for a moment and then going back under.

Twelve bongs last night. Like it was midnight. Then lightning. The sun overhead now. Like it's noon. And lightning.

Slowly I rise up and survey the arena. The lightning there. In the next pie wedge over came the blood rain, where Johanna, Wiress, and Beetee were caught. We would have been in the third section, right next to that, when the fog appeared. And as soon as it was sucked away, the monkeys began to gather in the fourth. Tick, tock. My head snaps to the other side. A couple of hours ago, at around ten, that wave came out of the second section to the left of where the lightning strikes now. At noon. At midnight. At noon.

"Tick, tock," Wiress says in her sleep. As the lightning ceases and the blood rain begins just to the right of it, her words suddenly make sense.

"Oh," I say under my breath. "Tick, tock." My eyes sweep around the full circle of the arena and I know she's right. "Tick, tock. This is a clock."


	13. Chapter 13

I wake the others, telling them that we need to move. We had enough time for me to tell them about my revelation as we gathered up our things. "So noon and midnight to one is the lightning" I say "then blood rain at one to two, two to three is the poisonous fog-"

"Monkeys at three to four" Peeta nods.

As we all agreed to move, I'm pretty sure I convinced them; even Johanna had the attitude of 'better safe than sorry'.

Beetee's still pretty out of it, but when Peeta tries to lift him, he objects. "Wire," he says.

"She's right here," Peeta tells him. "Wiress is fine. She's coming, too."

But still Beetee struggles. "Wire," he insists.

"Oh, I know what he wants," says Johanna impatiently. She crosses the beach and picks up the cylinder we took from his belt when we were bathing him. It's coated in a thick layer of congealed blood. "This worthless thing. It's some kind of wire or something. That's how he got cut. Running up to the Cornucopia to get this. I don't know what kind of weapon it's supposed to be. I guess you could pull off a piece and use it as a garrotte or something. But really, can you imagine Beetee garrotting somebody?"

"He won his Games with wire. Setting up that electrical trap," says Peeta. "It's the best weapon he could have."

There's something odd about Johanna not putting this together. Something that doesn't quite ring true. Suspicious. "Seems like you'd have figured that out," I say. "Since you nicknamed him Volts and all."

Johanna's eyes narrow at me dangerously. "Yeah, that was really stupid of me, wasn't it?" she says. "I guess I must have been distracted by keeping your little friends alive. While you were...what, again? Getting Mags killed off?"

My fingers tighten on the knife handle at my belt.

"Go ahead. Try it. I don't care if you are knocked up, I'll rip your throat out," says Johanna.

I know I can't kill her right now. But it's just a matter of time with Johanna and me. Before one of us offs the other.

"Maybe we all had better be careful where we step," says Finnick, shooting me a look. He takes the coil and sets it on Beetee's chest. "There's your wire, Volts. Watch where you plug it."

Peeta picks up the now-unresisting Beetee. "Where to?"

We agree to head back to the cornucopia so that we could watch and see if my theory was right. Once there, Peeta starts mapping out the arena in the sand with a stick whilst Wiress cleans the dried blood from Beetee's wire, singing something about a mouse running up a clock.

"Oh, not the song again," says Johanna, rolling her eyes. "That went on for hours before she started tick-tocking."

Suddenly Wiress stands up very straight and points to the jungle. "Two," she says.

I follow her finger to where the wall of fog has just begun to seep out onto the beach. "Yes, look, Wiress is right. It's two o'clock and the fog has started."

"Like clockwork," says Peeta. "You were very smart to figure that out, Wiress."

Wiress smiles and goes back to singing and dunking her coil. "Oh, she's more than smart," says Beetee. "She's intuitive." We all turn to look at Beetee, who seems to be coming back to life. "She can sense things before anyone else. Like a canary in one of your coal mines."

"What's that?" Finnick asks me.

"It's a bird that we take down into the mines to warn us if there's bad air," I say.

"What's it do, die?" asks Johanna.

"It stops singing first. That's when you should get out. But if the air's too bad, it dies, yes. And so do you." I don't want to talk about dying songbirds. They bring up thoughts of my father's death and Rue's death and Maysilee Donner's death and my mother inheriting her songbird. Oh, great, and now I'm thinking of Gale, deep down in that horrible mine, with President Snow's threat hanging over his head. So easy to make it look like an accident down there. A silent canary, a spark, and nothing more.

We fill in some of the other gaps of the clock. "Ten to eleven is the wave" I say.

"I'm going to mark the ones where we know the Gamemakers' weapon follows us out past the jungle, so we'll stay clear of those," says Peeta, drawing diagonal lines on the fog and wave beaches. Then he sits back. "Well, it's a lot more than we knew this morning, anyway."

We all nod in agreement, and that's when I notice it. The silence. Our canary has stopped singing.

I turn just in time to see Gloss letting Wiress slide to the ground, her throat slit in a bright red smile. I shoot without thinking and pierce his right temple; Johanna has buried her axe blade in Cashmere's chest before I can reload.

Boom! Boom! Boom! The cannon confirms there's no way to help Wiress, no need to finish off Gloss or Cashmere. My allies and I are rounding the horn, starting to give chase to Brutus and Enobaria, who are sprinting down a sand strip toward the jungle.

Suddenly the ground jerks beneath my feet and I'm flung on my side in the sand. The circle of land that holds the Cornucopia starts spinning fast, really fast, and I can see the jungle going by in a blur. I feel the centrifugal force pulling me toward the water and dig my hands and feet into the sand, trying to get some purchase on the unstable ground. Between the flying sand and the dizziness, I have to squeeze my eyes shut. There is literally nothing I can do but hold on until, with no deceleration, we slam to a stop.

Through the dizziness, I look frantically round for Peeta and am relieved to find that he along with Finnick and Johanna have managed to hang on. I sink back down as the ground continues to lurch around me, making my stomach churn.

"Katniss!" I hear Peeta call, obviously looking for me.

"I'm here" I call back weakly, trying to sit up.

He was by my side in an instant. "I got worried when I couldn't see you" he says.

"I'm fine" I assure him "just dizzy."

"You look green" Johanna states, smirking.

"Shall we see how you cope if you were in Katniss's situation?" Peeta snaps back in a very 'un-Peeta-like' manner. This wipes the smirk from her face and she turns her back on us. "I thought I'd lost you for a minute there" he murmurs, hugging me.

"Not too tight, Peeta" I groan "I don't want to throw up on you."

He loosens his hold a little as he says "the bodies got swept into the water."

"The wire!" I say suddenly, remembering that Wiress had been cleaning it. "Where is it?"

"Forget the wire" Johanna scowls "where's Volts?" We all look around and, finally, Finnick spots him in the water, paddling a little to keep afloat.

"I'll get him," he sighs, saying that he'll grab the wire as well, before flinging himself into the water

"Can you help me up, Peeta?"

Peeta helped me to my feet but kept hold of me in case I keeled over. "Ok?" He asks.

"Yeah, I-" and then, without much of a warning, I vomit up against the cornucopia. It was expected, really; I think I'd done well to last this long without losing my lunch.

Finnick gets Beetee back alive, along with the wire. "Take better care of this, won't you?" He instructs the man who graciously accepts the wire.

"Come on, let's get off this stinking island" Johanna growls and we pick a random path, not knowing which section we were walking to.


	14. Chapter 14

"Well, it must be monkey hour. And I don't see any of them in there," says Peeta. "I'm going to try to tap a tree."

"No, it's my turn," says Finnick.

"I'll at least watch your back," Peeta says.

"Katniss can do that," says Johanna. "We need you to make another map. The other washed away." She yanks a large leaf off a tree and hands it to him.

For a moment, I'm suspicious they're trying to divide and kill us. But it doesn't make sense. I'll have the advantage on Finnick if he's dealing with the tree and Peeta's much bigger than Johanna. So I follow Finnick about fifteen yards into the jungle, where he finds a good tree and starts stabbing to make a hole with his knife.

"Katniss, got that spile?" Finnick asks. I cut the vine that ties the spile to my belt and hold the metal tube out to him.

That's when I hear the scream. So full of fear and pain it ices my blood. And so familiar. I drop the spile, forget where I am or what lies ahead, only know I must reach her, protect her. I run wildly in the direction of the voice, heedless of danger, ripping through vines and branches, through anything that keeps me from reaching her.

From reaching my little sister.

Jabberjays.

I grab Finnick, trying to ignore the voices of my mother, Gale, Peeta and everyone else I ever cared for. He wasn't easy to tow back to the beach, he was screaming for someone named Annie.

It turned out, however, that this wedge, like the fog wedge, was cut off from the beach; which meant that, for the next hour, Finnick and I were trapped with no escape.

I know it's stopped when I feel Peeta's hands on me, feel myself lifted from the ground and out of the jungle. But I stay eyes squeezed shut, hands over my ears, muscles too rigid to release. Peeta holds me on his lap, speaking soothing words, rocking me gently. It takes a long time before I begin to relax the iron grip on my body. And when I do, the trembling begins.

"It's all right, Katniss," he whispers.

"You didn't hear them," I answer.

"I heard Prim. Right in the beginning. But it wasn't her," he says. "It was a jabberjay."

"It was her. Somewhere. The jabberjay just recorded it," I say.

"No, that's what they want you to think. The same way I wondered if Glimmer's eyes were in that mutt last year. But those weren't Glimmer's eyes. And that wasn't Prim's voice. Or if it was, they took it from an interview or something and distorted the sound. Made it say whatever she was saying," he says.

"No, they were torturing her," I answer. "She's probably dead."

"Katniss, Prim isn't dead. How could they kill Prim? We're almost down to the final eight of us. And what happens then?" Peeta says.

"Seven more of us die," I say hopelessly.

"No, back home. What happens when they reach the final eight tributes in the Games?" He lifts my chin so I have to look at him. Forces me to make eye contact. "What happens? At the final eight?"

I know he's trying to help me, so I make myself think. "At the final eight?" I repeat. "They interview your family and friends back home."

"That's right," says Peeta. "They interview your family and friends. And can they do that if they've killed them all?"

"No?" I ask, still unsure.

"No. That's how we know Prim's alive. She'll be the first one they interview, won't she?" he asks.

I want to believe him. Badly. It's just ... those voices ...

"First Prim. Then your mother. Your cousin, Gale. Madge," he continues. "It was a trick, Katniss. A horrible one. But we're the only ones who can be hurt by it. We're the ones in the Games. Not them."

"You really believe that?" I say.

"I really do," says Peeta. I waver, thinking of how Peeta can make anyone believe anything. I look over at Finnick for confirmation, see he's fixated on Peeta, his words.

"Do you believe it, Finnick?" I ask.

"It could be true. I don't know," he says. "Could they do that, Beetee? Take someone's regular voice and make it ..."

"Oh, yes. It's not even that difficult, Finnick. Our children learn a similar technique in school," says Beetee.

While Johanna collects water and my arrows, Beetee fiddles with his wire, and Finnick takes to the water. I need to clean up, too, but I stay in Peeta's arms, still too shaken to move.

Peeta switches from rubbing my arms or my back to playing with my hair as he talks comfortingly to me, occasionally stopping what he's doing to kiss me.

A cannon blast brings us all together on the beach. A hovercraft appears in what we estimate to be the six-to-seven-o'clock zone. We watch as the claw dips down five different times to retrieve the pieces of one body, torn apart. It's impossible to tell who it was. Whatever happens at six o'clock, I never want to know.

Peeta draws a new map on a leaf, adding a JJ for jabberjays in the four-to-five-o'clock section and simply writing beast in the one where we saw the tribute collected in pieces. We now have a good idea of what seven of the hours will bring. And if there's any positive to the jabberjay attack, it's that it let us know where we are on the clock face again.

Finnick weaves yet another water basket and a net for fishing. I take a quick swim and put more ointment on my skin. Then I sit at the edge of the water, cleaning the fish Finnick catches and watching the sun drop below the horizon. The bright moon is already on the rise, filling the arena with that strange twilight. We're about to settle down to our meal of raw fish when the anthem begins. And then the faces ...

Cashmere. Gloss. Wiress. Mags. The woman from District 5. The morphling who gave her life for Peeta. Blight. The man from 10.

Eight dead. Plus eight from the first night. Two-thirds of us gone in a day and a half. That must be some kind of record.

"They're really burning through us," says Johanna. "Who's left? Besides us five and District Two?" asks Finnick.

"Chaff," says Peeta, without needing to think about it. Perhaps he's been keeping an eye out for him because of Haymitch.

A parachute comes down with a pile of bite-sized square-shaped rolls. "These are from your district, right, Beetee?" Peeta asks.

"Yes, from District Three," he says. "How many are there?"

Finnick counts them, turning each one over in his hands before he sets it in a neat configuration. I don't know what it is with Finnick and bread, but he seems obsessed with handling it. "Twenty-four," he says.

"An even two dozen, then?" says Beetee.

"Twenty-four on the nose," says Finnick. "How should we divide them?"

"Let's each have three, and whoever is still alive at breakfast can take a vote on the rest," says Johanna. I don't know why this makes me laugh a little. I guess because it's true. When I do, Johanna gives me a look that's almost approving. No, not approving. But maybe slightly pleased.

We wait until the giant wave has flooded out of the ten-to-eleven-o'clock section, wait for the water to recede, and then go to that beach to make camp. Theoretically, we should have a full twelve hours of safety from the jungle. There's an unpleasant chorus of clicking, probably from some evil type of insect, coming from the eleven-to-twelve-o'clock wedge. But whatever is making the sound stays within the confines of the jungle and we keep off that part of the beach in case they're just waiting for a carelessly placed footfall to swarm out.

Peeta and I take the first watch, letting the other three rest. We claimed to be better rested than them which technically wasn't true, I felt exhausted but Peeta and I wanted a bit of time alone.

"How're you feeling?" He asks

"Well fed" I reply "that fish really hit the spot" I sigh, patting my satisfied stomach.

"And how is he today?"

"Active" I shrug "sitting on my bladder…alive." Peeta smiles pulling me into him so that he could place his hands on my belly. "I've decided to just take each day as it comes" I tell him. "If I die then I die; I'm not really holding out much hope for the future."

Peeta doesn't say much to this though I know that he's doing everything he can to keep me alive. "Me too" he says and then we're quiet again. Relaxing in the other's embrace as our lips meet, bringing out the hunger in me that makes me want more.

"I wish we weren't here" I murmur against his lips. He nods, understanding what I'm saying, before deepening the kiss.

It's the first crack of the lightning storm - the bolt hitting the tree at midnight - that brings us to our senses. It rouses Finnick as well. He sits up with a sharp cry. I see his fingers digging into the sand as he reassures himself that whatever nightmare he inhabited wasn't real.

"I can't sleep anymore," he says. "One of you should rest." Only then does he seem to notice our expressions, the way we're wrapped around each other. "Or both of you. I can watch alone."

Peeta won't let him, though. "It's too dangerous," he says. "I'm not tired. You lie down, Katniss." I don't object because I do need to sleep if I'm to be of any use keeping him alive. I let him lead me over to where the others are.

Peeta pulls the chain with the gold disk from around his neck. He holds it in the moonlight so I can clearly see the mockingjay. Then his thumb slides along a catch I didn't notice before and the disk pops open. It's not solid, as I had thought, but a locket. And within the locket are photos. On the right side, my mother and Prim, laughing. And on the left, Gale. Actually smiling. He then puts the chain, with the locket, around my neck before resting his hand over my bump as he says "you're going to make a great mother, you know," he kisses me one last time and goes back to Finnick.

I watch him leave feeling so confused. I know why he gave me the locket, why he showed me those pictures; he's trying to remind me what I have back home so that I'll want to return but how could I return without him?

As I drift off, I try to imagine that world, somewhere in the future, with no Games, no Capitol. A place like the meadow in the song I sang to Rue as she died. Where Peeta's child could be safe.


	15. Chapter 15

I wake to another delivery of bread; twenty four rolls from district three. We each take five, leaving eight for whoever is still alive later.

Peeta sits beside me as we eat and I so desperately want to talk to him about severing from the group but it's not a discussion to have here, where we can be heard. I've been feeling increasingly edgy; there aren't that many of us left which means that, one way of another, all but one of us are going to die and I don't want Peeta or myself to be a sitting target.

"Are you ok?" He asks, noticing that I'm picking at my rolls rather than eating them. I nod but he knows me well enough to know that there's more that I'm not saying, that I can't say. "Hey" his face brightens "didn't you say something, the other day, about teaching me to swim?"

Did I? I frown at him, confused for a moment before I clock on. "Oh yeah, I did, didn't I? Come on," I put my rolls to one side and stand up, pulling him with me "now's a better time than any, I'll have you swimming more gracefully than Odair by the time I'm done with you."

Both of us can feel Johanna's eyes on us as we head down to the water where I begin showing Peeta a few simple strokes, waiting for her to get bored and busy herself with something else. I knew that she couldn't hear us from where she was standing but I still didn't want to take any risks.

"I think she's gone for a nap" Peeta informs me as I begin rubbing sand up and down my skin, removing the scabs.

I nod. "Peeta, we need to take off; I don't think that this kinship is going to last much longer and I really am in danger of gauging Johanna's eyes out."

He chuckles "she is a bit hard to get on with, isn't she? There's more to her than what meets the eye, Katniss, she's been through a lot but I agree. I don't want to risk hanging around for too long and then getting involved in a second bloodbath."

"So when?" I ask

"Tonight?" He suggests "I know that Beetee is forming some kind of plan to kill off the remaining careers; at least once they're dead we'll only have to worry about those three and possibly Chaff."

"Tonight then" I say before wincing a little, my hand flying to my stomach.

"What is it?!" Peeta asks, all seriousness gone as worry takes over.

"Chill" I pant "he's just moving around some, stretching. The kid's sitting on my bladder."

Relief washes over his face as he envelopes me in his arms. "God, Katniss, I wish you wouldn't do that" he mutters to me "scares me half to death!"

"Sorry" I smile, patting his back gently. Peeta's dedication to me and the baby still amazes me; how, despite we're in the games and could die at any point, he still worries about the two of us. I know that he doesn't like to see me in pain, perhaps that's something to do with it? I pull away from him and begin running my hands over my stomach in an attempt to settle the baby down or to at least move him away from my bladder but the kid refused to budge.

"Hey, your scabs have gone!" Finnick states as he joins us.

"Sand" Peeta nods, grabbing a handful and rubbing it over his skin.

Finnick starts doing the same, looking at me every time I hiss. He continues watching me as I try different positions, leaning back with my hands on my hips, leaning forward with my hands on my knees and even squatting so that my stomach is submerged in the water. "What _are_ you doing, Katniss?" He asks, looking amused.

"Trying to settle MJ down." I grunt.

"MJ?" Peeta asks sounding almost offended "I thought we weren't naming him."

"Mellark Junior" I sigh.

"Oh" he smiles at me "when did you think of that?"

I shrug "when I became uncomfortable enough to start calling him beast." Finnick and Peeta start laughing which angers me more than it should. "I'm so glad that you're both revelling in my pain!" I hiss.

"Katniss, come here" Finnick grins "let me help."

"What are you going to do?" I ask, desperate for some kind of relief.

"I'll need your permission to touch you" he says, ignoring my question. My eyes widen in confused surprise which makes Finnick double over in hysterics "your stomach, Katniss! Only your stomach" he snorts.

"Oh" I blush "yes, that's fine."

He nods, still grinning, before taking my arm, leading me a little further away from the shallows. "Lie on your back" he instructs "don't worry, your belt will stop you from sinking." I do as I'm told and float on my back. "Peeta, can you make sure she doesn't float off?" Finnick asks, the tone of his voice amuses me enough for me to let out a little giggle.

I feel someone take my hand as another is placed on my knee, keeping me from floating away from our beach. "What's he doing?" I ask Peeta "I can't see."

"Nothing at the moment" comes Peeta's reply "he's just staring, oh- wait, no he's doing something."

That's when I feel Finnick's hands on my stomach, under my belly button but a little too close to another area. "It's where the baby is, Katniss" he mutters as though he could hear my thoughts "but I give Peeta permission to kick my ass if he deems this inappropriate."

Peeta looks to me just as his hands start massaging the spot that MJ has been sitting for the past day or say and I let out a sigh. "Just carry on whatever you're doing" Peeta replies. "You should try singing to him if he won't settle down" states Peeta as Finnick continues working his magic. "it always helps me when I can't sleep."

"Maybe" I sigh, now beginning to get a little worried because I really had to- damn.

"Is it me or did it get a little warmer over here?" Finnick asks. "Katniss?" His face appears over mine when I don't reply and I could tell that he didn't actually need an answer. "Did you just-"

"Possibly" I say, still floating on my back "but if I did you can't really blame me, can you?"

Finnick sighs audibly before saying "it's actually more common than you think, no need to be embarrassed. Want me to continue?" I nod mutely and almost end up falling asleep before I'm snapped out of it by Beetee calling us back to the beach.

I sit between Peeta's legs, letting him massage my stomach for me, as Beetee tells us his plan.

He's suggesting that we wait until the ten o'clock wave, this evening, before heading to the lightning tree where he'll wrap the coil around it. Then someone will trail the coil from the tree and down to the beach before dumping it into the water.

He's betting that, because we'll be hidden in the jungle, the Careers will be on the beach which means that when the lightning hits the tree, the electricity will travel down the wire and electrocute everything on the beach which will be wet because of the wave.

"Bye-bye careers" Johanna mutters with an evil look in her eye.

"Yeah and bye-bye food supply" Finnick states, raising his eyebrows.

"But that's ok" Peeta says "even if we don't manage to kill the careers, it means that the water will be out for all of us. At least we know that we can get food if we need to, Katniss can hunt and there are the nuts Mags found. I think it's a good plan" he nods, turning his head to look at Beetee.

"Well, it's the only plan we've got" Johanna sighs "I say let's do it."

When we all agree we break camp and head to the lightning tree so that Beetee can inspect it before moving to the identical tree in the blood rain section so that Johanna can climb the tree, watch the lightning and report her findings to Beetee.

Then we go back to the ten o'clock beach where we're given the afternoon off.

Peeta and Finnick are tapping for water, Johanna is sharpening her axe…again and Beetee is muttering to himself, Probably going over the plan or something, so I'm left sitting up against the trunk of a tree silently begging MJ to go to sleep.

Whatever Finnick had done to me had worked wonders but the effects wore off once we'd started moving again. At least, this time, he was just having some kind of party and _not_ sitting on my bladder as well. "Shhh" I murmured to my stomach, feeling a little stupid. Peeta had no issue talking to MJ where as I felt very self-conscious especially with Johanna sitting within ear range. I begin rubbing my stomach again " _please_ go to sleep, little one." I beg, resting my head against the tree feeling completely drained.

' _You should try singing to him if he won't settle down_ ' Peeta's voice said ' _it always helps me when I can't sleep._ '

I blink for a moment at the memory before deciding to give it ago. I sing Rue's song, as softly as I could.

Peeta comes and sits beside me as I finish. "Better?" He asks as he passes me over a woven bowl of water.

"Much" I sigh, relieved that it had worked.

"MJ must like your voice as much as I do" he smiles, grasping my hand and squeezing it.

I nod, sipping at the water, before asking "do you think Beetee's plan will work?"

"No reason it shouldn't" Peeta shrugs. "Don't overthink it, Katniss, and don't worry, I'm not letting you out of my sight. Sleep whilst you can" he instructs "I'll be right here to wake you if anything happens."

I wake to find the other's cracking open oysters, around where I'm sitting. "Nice of you to re-join us once we've done the hard word" Johanna mutters.

"Hey" Peeta scowls "lay off her!"

"Well, it's not my fault you two got down and dirty" she snapped back "she's pregnant, she needs more sleep and more food than the rest of us" she rolls her eyes "whatever."

"Johanna" Finnick mutters "this was _before_ they knew they were going to be going back into the arena."

Johanna shrugs again but looks a little guilty at her outburst. "Here" Peeta says, pulling the attention away from District Seven "for you." He hands over a small pearl from the oyster he'd just opened.

I stare at it, examining its smooth surface, and wonder if I can get it made into a bracelet or something before I remember that I probably won't be leaving the arena alive. "Thanks" I tell him, forcing myself to smile and whishing that I could give him something in return. In my failure to produce anything, I plant a chaste kiss on his lips, hovering there for a moment as I whisper "I love you" against them.

As we sit and eat, making the most of the fish that probably won't be here tomorrow, I think about all the time I'd wasted with Peeta before I realised my true feelings for him. Thinking about how I'd pushed him away, how I'd hurt him and how I'd been selfish when he'd been nothing but kind and generous. Even before I really knew him, when he gave me that bread when I was on the edge of starvation, he was being selflessly kind and here I was, with Peeta, knowing that I will be indebted to him for the rest of my life if, by some unlikely miracle, we both manage to escape the horror of the games with our lives and our baby intact.

My thoughts then turn to Gale; the man who'd been my best friend and then had developed feelings for me. What would we have become? If I'd come out of the games alone, would I be with him now? Would I be in this arena? Would the districts be rebelling?

Would Gale be in here instead of Peeta?

But I knew that, if I had to choose between them, it would always be Peeta. Not that there was any doubt, of course; I'd never seen Gale as anything more than a brother, as close as sibling love could get without crossing that precarious line.

I miss Gale and I miss hunting with him. He'd kissed me and then I was punished for rejecting the kiss; how did he expect me to react? He'd never mentioned that he'd developed feelings for me, never even hinted at it, and yet I was the bad guy?

Then there was my family; I'd been meaning to tell them everything, before the games. Inform them of mine and Peeta's relationship and of the baby before it was announced in the interview but I chickened out and then my last chance was taken away from me as we were herded onto the train, not allowed to say goodbye to anyone.

I wondered what they were thinking when the truth came out; was my mother disappointed, surprised? I doubt that I'd fooled Prim so she was probably comforting our mother. What were they thinking now? Watching me struggle with the pregnancy, watching as Finnick and Peeta did their best to help me. Mother would have her remedies to help, she'd know how to reposition an unborn baby just like Finnick had known.

"Are you not eating?" Peeta asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

"I probably should" I sigh, popping an oyster into my mouth and chewing it slowly.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Home." I murmur, suddenly feeling very tired despite the nap I'd just had.

He nods "they'd be proud of you, Katniss, just like I am."

I suddenly wished that I was alone; in a place where there were no horrors, no cameras, no audience and no tributes so that I could scream and punch walls without people judging me or worrying about me. I wished that I could talk to my sister.

"Hey" Peeta notices the tension in my body "fancy a walk?"

This isn't the time to be selfish; Peeta is my husband which means that I should be leaning on him, telling him my worries and my thoughts. I accept his offer with a nod. "Don't go too far" Beetee warns us "we'll be moving soon."

"We won't go far and we won't be long" Peeta assures him before wrapping an arm around my waist, supporting my exhausted form, as we stroll slowly away from the others. "What's wrong?" He asks, stopping a few yards down from our campsite.

"Everything" I shook my head, trying to stop myself from crying "I miss home, I hate how I've treated you, I hate how things are between Gale and I. I'm annoyed that I didn't tell my mother the truth about us before the games and I miss being able to curl up in bed with you, knowing that, no matter what, things will be be ok as long as we're together." I sigh heavily, shaking my head again "there's no fight left in me, Peeta, there's no hope. I'm going to lose everything regardless and I can't imagine a world where I'm not waking up beside you, where your smile doesn't exist or where you're not there to wipe away my tears."

"All this from one small pearl?" He whispers.

"No, all this from your generosity." I sniff, the tears now beginning to fall.

"I wish that I could promise that everything will work out ok" Peeta says, tears sliding down his face "but I can't, Katniss; I know what I want and you know what you want but it doesn't mean that it'll work out that way, one of us is going to lose, but I'm not going to stop fighting for you, Katniss, I'm not going to stop trying because every breath you take makes my life have meaning and I'm going to give everything I have to keep you breathing. If I die-" I went to stop him but he puts his hand over my mouth "no, Katniss, if I die it'll hurt like hell but you'll have MJ, Gale, your mother and Prim and, eventually, you'll fall in love with another lucky soul and be happy again."

"I'll never be happy without you" I tell him.

"If I die, Katniss" he takes my head in his hands and tilts it up so that I'm looking into his eyes "I _want_ you to genuinely try and survive. I don't want you to give up, neglect our son and push everyone who loves you away."

"Peeta, I-" but he interrupts me again

"Would you be so disrespectful to my memory that you would deny me my last wish?"

Damn, the boy is good! He's got me cornered. "If I didn't love you, Peeta Mellark, I'd punch you in the face" I tell him, causing him to chuckle "of course I wouldn't disrespect your last wish but that means that you have to do the same for me."

"I can't promise that I'll be happy, Katniss" he says.

"Neither can I."

"But I will promise to try."

I stare up at him for a moment and nod "then I promise to try too."

Peeta wraps his arms around my neck, wresting his chin on my head as he mutters "this isn't goodbye, yet. I'm not going anywhere and neither are you."


	16. Chapter 16

We stay wrapped around each other until we're interrupted by the others who've packed up our camp and have joined us, informing us that we're moving to the lightning tree to set the trap before the ten o'clock wave hits.

"We got another parachute full of rolls" Finnick informs us as we trek through the jungle "twenty four rolls from three."

I nod but am oddly disappointed; I was hoping for some more bread from four as my body we desperately craving salt. "Should keep us all from going hungry for a while" Peeta nods, his hand firmly attached to mine, helping me as we walked. "Here, I saved these for you." He hands me the rolls I'd not eaten earlier.

"Thanks" I smile gratefully, I hadn't eaten much today due to the fact that all by body seemed to want to do right now was sleep. I bit into one and sighed as it hit my stomach.

There's not much for me to do, once we reach the lightning tree, so I watch as Finnick help Beetee coil the wire around the trunk. They were passing the wire between them, back and forth, back and forth; it too me a while to realise that there was a pattern forming in the way Beetee was uncoiling the wire and I wondered if there was a point to it or if it was just how Beetee worked.

They finish just as the wave begins and this is when Beetee informs me that it'll be my task, with the help of Johanna, to take the coil down to the beach and see that it's been deposited properly into the water.

"What?" I blink in surprise before turning to Peeta, scared that they were trying to split us up to kill us. "Why can't Peeta come with us?"

"He's too slow" Beetee replies "plus I need him here. Go on, now; you need to put as much space as you can between yourselves and the beach so the earlier you leave, the better."

Peeta moves over to me and kisses my cheek "he's right, you need to go now."

"I won't be long" I tell him "we'll come right back once it's done."

"Not into the lightning zone!" Beetee reminds us "head for the tree in the one to two o'clock sector."

I nod, squeezing Peeta's hand before letting go. "Be back soon" I remind him.

Johanna takes the wire first, moaning about how Peeta _should_ have come because I'm probably moving slower than he can when, in actual fact, I'm moving faster than Johanna so that we can get back quicker.

"Let me take the coil" I sigh after while "you've had it for a long time, it's my turn." She doesn't protest but, as she's handing it over, there's a slight vibration before the wire snaps back and it's evident that it's been cut. That's when Johanna hits me over the head with the coil and I'm on the floor with her on top of me.

'This is it' I think numbly to myself 'she's going to kill me.'

There's a stabbing pain in my left forearm and I can feel fingers rootling around in the wound before there's nothing. "Stay down!" She hisses at me, smothering my blood all over my face and body, before getting up and running off.

As I lie there I realise that the alliance is over but it's all well and good me being here but they've got Peeta and I've seen Finnick in action with his trident. I get up slowly and try to ignore the dull aching pain in my head and the wound in my arm which was gushing blood, as I climb back up to the tree, using the wire as a guide.

When I reach the tree and see that no one is there, I begin to panic. "Peeta?" I call quietly "Peeta?!"

"Katniss!" His voice calls back and I look around to see him running at me "Are you ok, Katniss?" He asks as I reach him "we need to get away from the tree!"

"Where's everyone?" I ask stupidly, not moving

"Beetee accidentally knocked himself out and Finnick and I went looking for you and Johanna when the wire went slack. Katniss!" He finally notices my arm "what happened?"

I stare at him as I say "Johanna attacked me and left me to die."

Peeta groans; he was the one who'd wanted her as an ally, at least none of mine tried to kill us. Then everything falls silent, the chirping insects in the eleven o'clock section had stopped which meant that the lightning was about to start and we were standing just feel from the tree, the wire still in my hand. "We need to get away from the tree!" Peeta repeats, trying to pull me to safety.

"No, Peeta" I whisper, slowly taking an arrow from my quiver.

"What are you doing?" He asks as I start wrapping it around the metal tip of the arrow.

"I don't know" I reply honestly "but you'd better get out of here, Peeta."

"There's no way that I'm leaving you now" he growls "if you're staying, I am too. Right up till your last breath, remember?"

I nod sadly at him, knowing that I'd do the same if the situation had been reversed. "Remember who the enemy is" I mutter as I place the arrow to the bow and I did. The enemy wasn't the people in here with me, it was the Capitol; it was Snow.

Peeta and I watch as the lightning builds up and I wait, for as long as I could, before releasing my arrow. That's when both of us are blown backwards.

I lay there, dazed, confused, hurt and bleeding, with Peeta's hand in mine. Through the haze, I could still feel his faint pulse so I look at and watch as the arena begins to collapse.

A hovercraft appears and scoops the both of us up and I wonder if they think we're dead or if they'll finish us off in the hovercraft. I don't remember hearing a canon but then my ears aren't working too well right now.

As we're lifted away from the fire and the falling debris, I smile as I think 'I don't care if I die now, not as long as he's here with me.'


	17. Chapter 17

When I wake, it takes me a moment to remember what had happened and why I'm lying on a table surrounded by machines that I'm not plugged in to.

I sit up to find that I'm not restrained and look around. Beetee is lying on the table beside me, being sustained by machines but there's no Finnick, no Johanna and, most devastating of all, no Peeta.

My last memory, before being lifted out of the arena, was lying in the claw beside Peeta so where was he now?

I was just about to slide off the table when the door opened and Haymitch walks in with a tray of food. "Welcome back, Sweetheart; I suppose you'd like to know what's going on." He says, setting the tray down on the table I was sat on and cautiously watching me.

"Where's Peeta?" I rasp.

"He's alive."

"But where is he?"

"In thirteen" he finally tells me before nodding at my tray which held a bowl of broth and a bread roll "eat and I'll explain."

I barely listen as he explains that there was a plan to break us out of the arena from the moment the Quell was announced. The victor tributes from 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, and 11 had varying degrees of knowledge about it. Plutarch Heavensbee has been, for several years, part of an undercover group aiming to overthrow the Capitol. He made sure the wire was among the weapons. Beetee was in charge of blowing a hole in the force field. The bread we received in the arena was code for the time of the rescue. The district where the bread originated indicated the day. Three. The number of rolls the hour. Twenty-four. The hovercraft belongs to District 13. Bonnie and Twill, the women I met in the woods from 8, were right about its existence and its defence capabilities. We are currently on a very roundabout journey to District 13. Meanwhile, most of the districts in Panem are in full-scale rebellion.

"So if we're on our way to Thirteen, how is Peeta already there?"

"We had to get him there quickly" Haymitch tells me "we transferred him onto a smaller craft to get him there faster. He's not in a good way, Sweetheart."

"That's my fault" I whisper, remembering how Peeta refused to leave my side.

Haymitch shook his head "the boy did what he did because he loves you, it was his decision and no way your fault. Eat" he reminds me so I do. "We saved the baby" he tells me "it was touch and go for a while but Cinna's protective vest did its job."

"Cinna's dead, isn't he?" I ask.

But, much to my surprise, Haymitch shook his head. His expression didn't offer me much hope though. "Rumour has it that he's in the Capitol being tortured for information."

I groan as I mutter "I'd rather he was dead."

"I understand" he nods. The news of Cinna thoroughly put me off my food so I dropped the spoon back into the hardly eaten bowl of broth and pushed it away from me. "I'm sorry, I should have waited until you'd eaten."

But I shake my head "I'm glad you told me, I just-" and then the tears come.

Haymitch comforts me as best he can in the circumstance. He's not a great one for tears and hormonal pregnant girls but he understands and he's trying.

I think about Peeta, lying in a critical condition and about Cinna who's being tortured in the Capitol. Both of them in these conditions because of me, because of the berries. I became even more hysterical and inconsolable by the minute and, in the end, I had to be sedated.

The next time I wake, I'm no longer on the table but in a warm, comfortable, bed in a place I didn't recognise. Gale was sat beside me, his eyes never wavering from my engorged stomach. "Hey, Catnip" his hunter senses kicking in, realising that I'm awake without the need to see my face. "I had to see it in person to believe it but-" he shook his head "I guess the evidence is pretty hard to ignore."

"What?" I whisper, trying to work out what on earth he was talking about before he places his hand on my stomach. Then I get it. Was he really upset about then when I'm laying here after only just surviving my second games.

But, before I could say anything, someone else speaks. "Gale, now isn't the time." Haymitch comes into view looking thoroughly annoyed. "Are you really coming in here and bothering her about insignificant things when she's sick?"

Gale shook his head "no. I was going to tell her than I'm done being a jealous idiot and I'm here for her as I should have been before the games."

I nod, taking in his words and feeling that some of the weight had been taking from my shoulders. "Thank you" I whisper.

"Peeta?" I ask

"Still fighting" Gale assures me.

"And Cinna?"

Both men remain silent for a moment before Haymitch says "still no news."

I feel my bottom lip quiver. "Your baby is healthy" Gale tells me before I can work myself into hysterics again "it was close but they worked their magic and he's still fighting, just like Peeta."

My thoughts began to rewind back to when I was in the hovercraft with Haymitch and remember him saying something about heading to district thirteen which, I assumed, was where we were now but why was Gale here? Unless something had happened back home. "Prim?" I gasp.

"She's alive. So is your mother. I got them out in time," he says.

"They're not in District Twelve?" I ask.

"After the Games, they sent in planes. Dropped firebombs." He hesitates. "Well, you know what happened to the Hob."

I do know. I saw it go up. That old warehouse embedded with coal dust. The whole district's covered with the stuff. A new kind of horror begins to rise up inside me as I imagine firebombs hitting the Seam.

"They're not in District Twelve?" I repeat. As if saying it will somehow fend off the truth.

"Katniss," Gale says softly.

I recognize that voice. It's the same one he uses to approach wounded animals before he delivers a deathblow. I instinctively raise my hand to block his words but he catches it and holds on tightly.

"Don't," I whisper.

But Gale is not one to keep secrets from me. "Katniss, there is no District Twelve."

 **Hey, well that's the end of this story but I am going to continue it.**

 **In case you haven't realised, I'm using Cinna in place of Peeta. I don't normally like to drastically change a story but I couldn't bring myself to write the same ending for him as the original.**

 **Of course, I don't want Cinna to go through it either but I didn't want him to die. His future in uncertain at the moment but I do love him so I won't be heartless.**

 **Anyways, thanks for reading and stay tuned. More coming soon.**


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